


Wolf Like Me

by agirlcalledbob



Series: Little Wolf [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Beta Derek Hale, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Omegas held against will, Protective Derek, Stiles Stilinski Needs a Hug, The Hale Family (Teen Wolf) Lives, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf reality, soft derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:48:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24928696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlcalledbob/pseuds/agirlcalledbob
Summary: He didn’t know how to address the whole ‘mate’ thing. Last night, Stiles’ wolf had beenveryon board with it, and had seemed to understand they were mates, rolling around and yipping happily as Derek had scented him, scenting back just as enthusiastically. But this Stiles, human Stiles, didn’t seem to know, or maybe he was simply avoiding speaking of it.Stiles is lost, but he found Derek.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Little Wolf [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804117
Comments: 71
Kudos: 291





	1. Here Comes The Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Just a note on the characterization - this is #SoftDerek (my favorite) - a Derek who wasn't beaten down by the death of his family (they're all alive and kicking), or by Kate Argent, so he remains that sweet, family orientated boy - no sourwolf needed here. Stiles is fragile to begin with, but he will develop his Stiles (TM) confidence eventually. 
> 
> There are some darker themes, some of which will be inferred rather than explicit (though some stuff will be detailed, I will warn when that happens) - I've chosen not to include warnings, because I don't want to give things away before it's started, so please be aware of that and that the 'mature' rating has been chosen for those darker themes.

Derek watched his still sleeping mate for a long moment, his heart pumping fast. He was _beautiful_ , calm in repose, long black lashes resting on the soft curve of his smooth, pale cheek, his lips rosy with a perfect bow, an adorable little upturned nose. That nose wrinkled now, like a snuffling bunny and, Christ, Derek had to clench his fist to remind himself Stiles didn’t even _know_ him yet. He couldn’t react to that in _any_ of the many ways he was tempted to.

He should leave. Yes. Go downstairs, like normal. Allow Stiles to wake up in his own time, to realize he was in his human form. Would he be afraid though? Or would he be more afraid to find Derek leaning over him breathing in his scent…okay, that question was easy to answer. Derek backed away, quietly opening the door, only to find his mom on the other side, looking concerned.

“He shifted?” she whispered, trying to see over his shoulder.  
“Yes, come downstairs,” he insisted, gently channeling her away.

When they got to the kitchen, Talia poured them both coffee, leaning back against the counter as she wrapped long fingers around her ‘World’s Greatest Mom’ mug.  
“You can feel him?”  
“The bond feels really strong, Mom. We only scented and stuff, but I can _feel_ him,” Derek rubbed over his heart in wonder. “He’s still sleeping.”  
“That’s impressive. I wonder if it’s because he’s an Omega. They’re so rare, I’m not sure I even know anyone who’s mated to one. Certainly not a male.”  
“Is he safe?”  
“Here? Yes. We’ll protect him. In the wider world, I really don’t know. The world isn’t made for them. Even Betas can get…possessive…around an unmated Omega. As far as I understand it, it’s connected to wolves going feral when they encounter one.”  
“But you guys didn’t?”  
“I have to wonder if that’s because he’s your mate. Or maybe it’s because it’s an excuse. You know us weres can be pretty selfish creatures. We like power. You’ve seen how some Alphas like to dominate even Betas with aggression. Can you imagine them around someone who’s categorically weaker, physically?”  
“You aren’t like that, though. And neither’s Uncle Peter. Or Laura. Or Mal, even though he’s too young to really know. But he won’t be.”  
“Like I say, an excuse. A few uncontrolled, immoral Alphas giving the rest of us a bad name.”

Cora stumbled sleepily into the kitchen, gratefully taking the mug her mom passed.  
“You talking about shitty Alphas?” she questioned, blunt as usual. “There’s a couple like that at school. Lording it over everyone. Acting like being good at Lacrosse or Football actually _means_ something. Hassling the pretty Betas.”  
“You don’t get hassled then?” Derek smirked.  
“Jerk.”  
“Witch.”

They devolved into a playfight that Talia just watched with warmth, used to the ways of her two middle children. Her youngest appeared then, his hair tousled.  
“Good morning Malachi,” she kissed the little Alpha’s forehead, passing him the chocolatey cereal he was only allowed to eat on the weekend.  
“What are those two fighting about this time?”  
“Shitty Alphas,” Cora shouted from the fray, and Mal snorted.  
“We aren’t all that bad.”  
“We know you aren’t,” Derek agreed as he pinned Cora and tickled her till she was shrieking.

“Okay children, I think that’s enough,” Talia suggested with a smile, and they broke apart at their Alpha’s gentle suggestion. “You’ll wake Stiles.”  
“I need to sort his breakfast. I wonder what he’d like.”  
Talia watched fondly as her eldest son proceeded to make up a tray with pretty much every option, Cora helping by preparing eggs and bacon as he flipped pancakes.  
“Why so special this morning?” she asked.  
“Stiles has shifted,” Talia told her, and Derek glared as Cora squealed.  
“Weren’t you going to tell us?”  
“Yes. But I don’t want you going up there and freaking him out. He doesn’t even know yet.”

As he said that, he felt something in his bond, a happy twist and stretch of the connection, as his mate awoke.  
“Stay down here,” he demanded. “We have no idea how he’ll react.”

He was up the stairs and at the door before Stiles had even registered he was in human form. He knew, because the moment he did, his heart jackrabbited, and he heard the panicked whimper.  
“Good morning, Stiles,” he tried to stay calm as his mate panicked, sending soothing scents to let him know he was safe.

Stiles had thrown himself against the headboard before Derek had even finished his sentence, pulling his long legs up to his chest, yanking the covers back over himself with a yelp when he registered his nakedness.  
“Are you hungry?” Derek asked, forcing himself to control the hurt emotions he was feeling.  
Stiles rowled a response – leaving Derek wondering if he could even speak. How long had he been in his wolf form? It could have been forever for all Derek knew. Maybe he didn’t even have words. Maybe he’d have no idea what to even do with the knife and fork carefully balanced on the tray.

Derek took the coffee off, placing it on the desk, before slowly moving to rest the tray at the edge of the bed and backing away.  
“Food. For you.”  
Stiles sniffed the air but didn’t come closer.  
“Do you want me to leave?” Derek asked.  
Stiles popped his head to one side, still looking afraid, but possibly less so, or maybe that was simply wishful thinking on Derek’s part. He sniffed again, his pretty face lifted as if he was trying to parse out individual scents. Finally, he just shook his head, and darted forward to pull the tray closer.

Derek sat at the desk, keeping his movements slow and steady. He watched Stiles eating, as the boy seemed either unaware or unbothered about his gaze. Derek was pleased to see that, after a moment when he picked the fork up by the tines, Stiles seemed to have no problems with the cutlery, even if he did eat too quickly and a bit messily, glancing up at the door every few seconds. 

Derek listened carefully to the movements of the house, worried his mother or Cora would be overcome by enthusiasm and come upstairs, but he could hear them speaking in the den, even if he couldn’t catch the words from here, and they sounded calm. Mal had gone back to his room, and he knew his father would be running the perimeter at this time. Laura lived in a house further into the preserve, with her mate, and wouldn’t be likely to come to the main house until this afternoon, and Peter would almost certainly be at work, even though it was Saturday. 

Things were peaceful, and should stay that way for a while. So he could watch Stiles, who had obviously been hungry, as he took a final bite of pancake, rubbing his overfilled belly, looking sleepy all over again.  
“Thank you.”  
The whisper was so low Derek barely heard it. He knew his own heartbeat sped up at hearing his mate’s voice, but he kept his words steady.  
“That’s alright. Tell me if you want anything else.”  
“Can I- am I allowed…can I wash?”  
“Do you want a shower? Or I could run you a bath?”  
“I’m allowed?”

Derek didn’t rightly know how to respond to a question like that. He kept that aching sadness it made rise in him pushed down with difficulty. And the anger. Maybe not well enough though, because Stiles flinched back again.  
“I’m sorry, I- I-,”  
“It’s okay Stiles. I’m sorry. It just makes me sad that you feel like you need to ask. There’s a bathroom there, and you can use it any time you want. Any time you want a bath or a shower. You don’t have to ask.”  
“I don’t? But…won’t Alpha be angry if I just use it? What if they want me and I’m not there straight away?”

“Why would the Alpha want you so urgently?”  
“They might…you know?” Stiles wriggled uncomfortably, looking at his hands as he flexed his fingers.  
“I don’t know. Will you tell me?” Derek couldn’t work out what Stiles was finding so difficult to say, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t like it. Maybe he shouldn’t _want_ to know. No matter which way he tried to approach a question like that, he couldn’t come to an acceptable answer, a reason that could be okay.  
“Do you want to meet Talia?”  
“Talia?”  
“She’s our- my pack Alpha. She’s my mom, and she’s the town Alpha.”  
“Oh. Does she have a lot of Omegas?”  
“Um, no. I think there are a few Omegas who live in town, but there aren’t any in the direct pack. We’re all Betas and Alphas.”  
Stiles shuddered, his mouth opening and closing, though he seemed to decide to say nothing after that moment of indecision.

“You don’t have to meet her yet. She’s happy to wait.”

He didn’t know how to address the whole ‘mate’ thing. Last night, Stiles’ wolf had been _very_ on board with it, and had seemed to understand they were mates, rolling around and yipping happily as Derek had scented him, scenting back just as enthusiastically. But this Stiles, human Stiles, didn’t seem to know, or maybe he was simply avoiding speaking of it.  
“How many Alphas will I have to ‘meet’?” Stiles asked, his head down.  
“’Meet’? Stiles, can you explain?”  
“You know,” Stiles suggested. “If your pack doesn’t have any Omegas they must need to appease their wolves. That’s an Omega’s purpose.”  
“Purpose?” Derek felt stupid, like he was obviously _missing_ something.

Stiles tilted his head again.  
“How do you breed pups?”  
“Uh. The usual way?”  
“Will your Alpha wish to breed?”  
“What? I doubt it. My little brother’s eight. I think mom might be done now.”  
Stiles blinked slowly.  
“What about the other Alphas?”  
“Laura has a mate. And I don’t think Peter even wants pups. Why?” Was it because Omegas liked to look after pups? He’d heard that, he was pretty sure, but they were rare enough that there wasn’t really a ‘career stereotype’ for them, like how Alphas were well known for wanting to be in high power jobs, and Betas were known for loyalty in whatever they chose. He should get some more information from Cora, she seemed to be the expert. Either way, Stiles was smelling acrid, and Derek could recognize it as tenseness.

He had to make Stiles understand he’d be safe here. No one was going to make him do anything he didn’t want to.  
“Stiles, do Alphas scare you?”  
Stiles glanced at the door as if he expected to see a furious Alpha glowering there but, on seeing it bare, he looked back to Derek and gave a lopsided grin that made Derek want to howl at the moon.  
“Sure. Don’t they scare all Omegas?”  
But now Derek wanted to howl in a whole different way. 

Instead, he decided to risk a different thing.  
“Stiles, what do you know about mates?”  
“Huh. Wow. Betas are so lucky they can have mates. Do you have one? You smell really good. Is that what being mated smells like?”  
“What do you mean? Why Betas?”  
“Well they can have mates can’t they? And Alphas too, I guess, but who cares about that, right? They sure don’t. Betas are kind to their mates, and don’t- they don’t need anything else.”  
“Omegas can have mates.”  
Stiles made a funny snorting noise. “Of course they can’t. If they had mates, how would they get bred? There’s fewer chances if they’re stuck to one mate.”

Derek was lost. He didn’t know what to do with any of this. And he didn’t know enough himself, suddenly feeling embarrassed for how little attention he’d paid in the past.  
“Stiles, you’re my mate.”  
“No. I can’t be.”  
“You can, I promise. Can you remember last night, when you were shifted? I was too. We scented, and I think we bonded some, too.”  
“That was real?” Stiles breathed, his whiskey brown eyes wide with shock. “I thought I dreamed it.” He paused. “And that was _you_? I thought I was imagining that you smelled the same.” He was blushing now, his pale cheeks pink and sweet.  
“It was real, Stiles. Um…you’re mine, and I’m yours. I’m going to keep you safe, I promise.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“What for?”  
“That you’re stuck with a weak Omega like me. I bet you hoped you’d get a nice Beta, or a strong Alpha. I’m sorry.”  
“Please, Stiles, don’t be. You’re perfect. I’m going to take care of you.”

Stiles wasn’t exactly calmed by that, his scent still high with nerves, but he let Derek run him a bath, and Derek left him there, playing happily with natural mint-scented bubbles, promising he’d return soon.

“Mom?” Derek’s voice broke when he found Talia in her study, thankful Cora had gone for a run, as he fell into her, letting her wrap her arms around him.  
“What is it, darling?”  
“I don’t know. Something’s wrong with Stiles.”  
“Wrong with him?”  
“No. I mean, he’s perfect. So sweet. But some of the things he’s saying. I’m scared, Mom.”  
“What did he tell you?”  
“Nothing, yet, not really. But he said some really weird stuff about how Omegas can’t have mates and they’re meant to only be used for breeding. I didn’t want to push him, he was getting distressed, but it can’t be good.”  
“Did he think he wouldn’t be safe here?”  
“Yeah. Something like that. He asked about you and Laura and Peter. I thought, well, it doesn’t matter, I think I got it wrong, because then he said the stuff about Omegas needing to be bred.”  
“Damn,” his mom whispered, “I hadn’t even thought that badly. But it does happen. Too often.”  
“The Omegas in Beacon Hills are safe, aren’t they? I mean, he said that, and you’re kind of acting like it isn’t completely crazy that he would say that. You’re freaking me out a bit.”  
“They’re as safe as they can be, darling. We certainly wouldn’t knowingly allow anything to happen. The Sheriff does a lot to keep them safe.”  
Derek thought of the Sheriff, an angry, strict Alpha, and found it hard to connect that to what his mom was saying. But he had a kind of tragic aura to him. Derek was pretty sure the man knew more about that dark side of life than Derek would ever want to. And now he discovered his mate maybe did too.

Derek gratefully settled onto the couch in his mom’s study, a mug of coffee in his hands. He liked to watch his mom work anyway, and today he needed that reassurance more than ever. For as long as Derek could remember, Talia had been the town’s Mayoral Alpha, which meant she controlled the council of weres that ran the town, and she did it with grace and poise, rarely losing that to the primal power that under-ran most Alphas. He knew his mother was capable of that, but she didn’t need it. Watching his mom work had always been Derek’s safe space, something he’d done since he was a pup, to ground and center his own Beta needs. It was additionally calming today, because he could feel Stiles through their bond, and he was emitting a feeling of contentedness, presumably as he played around in the bath.

Derek felt it as soon as that satisfaction dwindled, and there was an unmistakable sense of nervousness back again, similar to how it had felt earlier. He sat up and almost dropped his mug when he saw Stiles in the open door, wearing Derek’s trackpants, rolled at the ankle, and a t-shirt that hung loosely, revealing sharp lines of collarbones.  
“Stiles?” he said softly, his wolf ridiculously pleased when Stiles came to him, looking down uncertainly, before glancing over to Talia, who kept her head down but had ceased all movement.  
“Am I allowed?”  
“In here? Whenever Mom is here, yes. Though we don’t come in when she isn’t.”  
“Okay.” He still stood, and Derek wanted to pull him close, but didn’t want to scare him further – he was already trembling.

Derek could have cried in happiness when he heard Marla’s clicking paws in the hallway, and she appeared in the doorway, because Stiles’ shoulders relaxed, and he even smiled.  
“Here, Marla,” Derek suggested, and she came closer, butting her head against Stiles’ hip. “Why don’t you sit down, Stiles, so Marla can sit next to you?”

Talia smiled when Derek’s face broke into a huge grin when Stiles sat directly by him, almost touching, leaving space for Marla to climb into the seat on his other side and curl her body against him. Stiles watched her while his fingers wrapped and twisted in the long fur at her nape.  
“Stiles,” Talia said softly.  
He started, and Marla grunted her annoyance, pressing her head into his side.  
“Sorry,” he whispered. He didn’t look up, and Derek could feel him shaking. He shot his mom a look to not push it and she shrugged apologetically, but Derek should have known it wouldn’t stop her. This was part of her job, the way she saw it.  
“Stiles, do you know how long you were in your wolf form for?”  
“No,” his voice was so quiet, they both had to strain to hear him.  
“We need to know, Stiles. We would like you to be part of our pack, as Derek’s mate-,”  
“Mo-om,” Derek huffed.  
“Ssh, darling. It’s true. And if Stiles is already in a pack we need to complete the necessary transfer paperwork.”  
“No,” Stiles said.  
“What’s that, sweetheart?” she asked.  
“I’m not in a pack. Omegas can’t be pack.”  
“They can, Stiles. Who told you that?”  
“Alpha.” Stiles was shaking more than ever, and Derek tried to rumble to calm him.

Derek was getting more bemused by the minute, not understanding this misinformation that Stiles was presenting as fact. But more than that, he was furious, that whoever Stiles’ previous pack leader was, they had been telling him this stuff, making him feel as though he didn’t belong, and didn’t deserve to belong. Most forms of ‘Wolves _needed_ pack and, even though Derek knew shamefully little about Omegas, he was pretty sure that need was at least as great in them, if not more so. 

He heard the front door bang, and Stiles pressed into him, watching Marla’s ears twitch at the noise.  
“Honey, I’m home.”  
It was only Peter, and Derek relaxed at first, except Stiles sniffed, and trembled even more.  
“Talia, I’ve been looking into those disap-,” he stopped when he caught sight of Stiles. “Oh. This is the little wolf? Hello Little Wolf. Aren’t you just a delight? Well, nephew, you certainly bagged yourself a pretty one.”

Before Derek could react, Stiles had thrown himself down, his face pressed to the ground close to Peter’s feet, his body curled as small as possible.  
“Please, Alpha, I’m sorry. It isn’t Beta’s fault, please don’t hurt him.”  
“What?” Peter looked aghast, the expression morphing into horror as Stiles shuffled around, lifting his hips off the ground.  
“Please don’t punish him. I’m sorry I haven’t been performing-,”  
“Peter,” Talia growled out a warning, that made Stiles whimper.

Peter looked at Derek, poised but uncertain, and Marla, who was making no sound, but her sharp canines were bared.  
“Omega,” Peter instructed firmly, “return to your mate. Allow him to comfort you.”  
“Yes, Alpha.” Stiles positively crawled up Derek from the floor, pressing his face into Derek’s neck.  
“Beta, take your mate to his room. Use your scent to calm him.”  
“Yes, Alpha,” Derek chose to play along, as whatever Peter was doing seemed to be somehow calming to Stiles, and disappeared, Marla following at his heels.

* * * * *

“Do you want to sleep?”  
“So, you’re really, truly my mate?”  
“Yes.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“You said that before. Why are you sorry? I’m not.”  
“Why aren’t you? I’m only an Omega. I’m not even…you deserve better.”  
“I deserve you, Stiles. I hope.”  
“I wish I was good enough.”

Derek didn’t have chance to respond before Stiles’ lips were on his. He tasted of fresh pine, Derek’s favorite scent from the woods on their land, and tangy fruit. Derek was barely aware of the hardwood floor beneath his feet, instead he was floating, feelings of electrification coursing through him, Stiles’ lips soft, almost ethereal, except they were definitely there, the only point of contact, but enough. Stiles’ lips parted, a breath shared, and there were tentative moist touches of tongue, enough to feel as though oxygen were optional, and Derek felt as though a piece of him, that he hadn’t even known was missing, had come home. 

* * * * * 

“Do you want to tell me what that was about?” Peter turned to Talia when they were alone.  
“I imagine you can guess quite as well as I can. What were you going to say, anyway?”  
“Not a lot. As we expected, there have been countless disappearances of Omegas all over the country, and not knowing Stiles’ name, or his age, or where he disappeared from, it’s all but impossible to know if he was one. I can say there have been no local missing person reports filed that fit him in the weeks leading to us finding him.”  
“Oh, I think we can guess all of those things.”  
“We can?”  
“Yes.”  
“Goddess, Talia, you’ve been spending too much time around Deaton. Just say what you’re thinking.”  
“Do you remember what Sheriff Stilinski used to be like?”  
“What? Yes. He was a good man. He still is a good man, though I understand he’s all but rejected the concept of pack. If he wasn’t in a pseudo pack with his deputies he’d probably have gone Rogue. Wait…that was before his wife died. And his son went missing.”  
“Yes.”  
“You’re suggesting…my Goddess. You think Stiles is the Sherriff’s boy?”


	2. Won’t You Lay Hands on Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The sheriff whispered in shock. “What? You knew?” he turned to Talia.  
>  “We only suspected,” Peter said. “I suppose this is confirmation.”  
> “What?”  
> The sheriff was white, his hands trembling as they reached towards Stiles, who shrank away, confusion marring his delicate features.  
> “Son? It can’t be…”  
> Derek watched with horror as Stiles pushed away from his side and dropped to his knees, clearly about to turn and present for the Sheriff. He rushed over and scooped his mate up unceremoniously, disappearing upstairs as Talia tried to soothe the increasingly desperate man. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing this - and it's setting us up for the action that will start to build in the next chapter.
> 
> I should mention - there are oblique references to past abuse, though nothing explicit. Proceed with appropriate caution.

After the less than salubrious meeting with Peter, Derek was content to keep Stiles to himself for a few more days before they ran the risk of any more meetings. His family weren’t helping though, becoming increasingly desperate to meet Stiles, to the point that Derek was crowded every time he ventured into the kitchen, especially by the pups; Malachi, and Laura’s three girls, who had never seen a real life Omega and were even more excited about this one being their favorite uncle’s mate. Derek discovered quickly that Stiles wasn’t fazed by the scents of pups, and he already knew Cora’s scent, but he did his best to stay away from the Alphas. He didn’t want the sight of his mate crowded fearfully against the back of the bed in his mind ever again.

He did allow his Beta father to scent him, and Laura’s mate, Danny, who was Beta, too. Stiles’ face screwed up when Derek first came back covered in them, but he wasn’t afraid.  
“Stiles,” Derek began, uncertain, as Stiles stared enraptured at the episode of Voltron they were watching, “Betas have always treated you well?”  
Stiles allowed a glance at Derek before returning his gaze to the TV. “They don’t hurt.”  
“But Alphas hurt you?” Derek wasn’t sure he should be pushing, but Stiles’ heartbeat was still steady.  
“Often,” was all he got back, and Stiles shushed him when he opened his mouth to speak again.

* * * * * 

Stiles had fallen into a peaceful slumber that Derek was loathe to disturb. He carefully arranged him on the couch, tenderly brushing against his scent gland, watching the serenity in his troubled mate’s face with pleasure. He heard a car travelling the drive and coming to a stop, slamming doors that indicated three occupants, and the heavy steps on the front porch. Of course the door was opened before anyone had to knock, and he heard the rumble of his father’s voice, but decided being here with his Omega was far too fulfilling of his time to break from.

* * * * *

“Welcome, Sheriff,” Talia said, standing to shake the man’s hand. “Alan, Scott, hello. To what do we owe this pleasure?”  
“You have an Omega,” the Sheriff announced bluntly.  
Talia shot a look of annoyance at Deaton, but he shrugged.  
“Not from me, Alpha, I can assure you.”  
“No. Dr Deaton apparently thought it not important enough to inform me, despite the law.”  
“The law?” Peter came in the room with an imperiously raised eyebrow.  
“Yes, our own council passed the law seven years ago. I’m quite surprised Talia forgot. All Omegas must be registered with our local police force, for monitoring, and for their safety.”  
“I apologize, Sheriff. We do have so few Omegas in town,” Talia claimed, looking to Peter.  
“So how do you know?” Peter asked.  
“It’s the talk of the town, frankly. I believe the rumors began at the high school, so obviously I attended there first, but there were no new Omegas amongst the students. But the rumor mill led me here.”

Peter glanced to the door, where Cora was poised, pale to the point of green.  
“There’s no point claiming you don’t have an Omega here, Talia. Deaton confirmed it.”  
“I was going to claim no such thing, Noah. He isn’t seeing visitors, though.”  
“This isn’t a social visit, Talia. It’s the law.” The sheriff’s color was rising in anger.  
“Please, Sheriff, don’t become upset. That will hardly help the boy’s state,” Peter suggested.  
“It’s a male? Even more important. Unscrupulous people will be ready to snatch him away. Is he chipped?”  
“I believe that is what is known as shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted, dear Sheriff.”  
“What are you saying?”

Suddenly, Derek appeared, gently moving Cora out of the way.  
“Would you people stop this? He doesn’t need this kind of thing happening.”  
“Just let me register him and check his chip.”  
“He doesn’t have a chip,” Deaton interrupted. “I suspect it was removed some years ago. He has no scarring, so it was before he became weak.”  
“Exactly what are you not telling me?” the sheriff demanded.

Everyone’s eyes flicked to the door. Stiles stood, looking fearful, allowing Cora to put her hands on his shoulders. Derek ran to his side and Stiles pressed against him.  
“Mischief?” the sheriff whispered in shock. “What? You knew?” he turned to Talia.  
“We only suspected,” Peter said. “I suppose this is confirmation.”  
“What?”  
The sheriff was white, his hands trembling as they reached towards Stiles, who shrank away, confusion marring his delicate features.  
“Son? It can’t be…”  
Derek watched with horror as Stiles pushed away from his side and dropped to his knees, clearly about to turn and present for the Sheriff. He rushed over and scooped his mate up unceremoniously, disappearing upstairs as Talia tried to soothe the increasingly desperate man. 

“What was-,”  
“Noah, we don’t know what Stiles has gone through-,”  
“Stiles?”  
“It’s what we used to call him.”  
Everyone turned to Scott when he spoke for the first time.  
“You know him?” Talia asked.  
“Of course he does, they were best friends before Mischief disappeared.”  
“Um, he decided Mischief was too childish, Sir. But I think he actually wanted to save it a bit, because it’s what his mom used to call him. And…well, it was about the same time he started to get some hassle for being Omega. And he didn’t like the way some of the Alphas would use his name. They’d say stuff…”  
“You never did though?” Noah asked, suspiciously.  
“Of course not! I tried to look after him…but I wasn’t there that day. I’d caught a lung infection, it took a day to heal, and I didn’t go to school, because I didn’t want Stiles to catch it, because his healing wasn’t as good as mine. So, so I wasn’t there.” Scott hung his head, hiding the tears that were rising in his eyes.

“I want-,”  
“I don’t think so, Sheriff,” Peter interrupted sternly.  
“You can’t keep me away from my son, Peter. He’s been gone for eight years-,”  
“Yes, and what do you think has happened to him in that time? Do you think he’s been playing tea parties with his dollies? What exactly would make that young man attempt to present to his own father, purely because of his Alpha scent, huh?”  
“He wasn’t-,”  
“You’re a lawman, Sheriff. You have to look at this as the case it is, not as your lost son returned. He’s been living in this house for _weeks_ , with his damn mate for Goddess’ sake, and he is _still_ incapable of being around any Alphas.”  
“His mate?”  
“Yes, Derek, but that’s not vital information right now. We don’t know where he’s been or what’s been happening to him.”  
“But-,”  
“And we don’t know who we have to bring to retribution for those things,” Peter finished with a growl. 

Noah sat with a huff, as if the stuffing was knocked from him, looking across to Talia with something like desperation.  
“Why didn’t Scott tell me?”  
“I didn’t know, Sir, I promise. Dr Deaton only said an Omega had been found. I didn’t know it was him,” Scott sounded almost as desperate.

“Scott, tell us about Stiles,” Talia asked, gently, helping Noah take the hot coffee she passed him by curling his fingers around the mug.  
“We were best friends, since we were four. I used to have something wrong with my lungs, and they thought I might be a latent Omega, so we were in the same class. We were friends straight away.”  
“You were inseparable,” Noah interrupted with a sad smile.  
“And then my healing finally kicked in and it turned out I was Alpha, we just stayed friends. We used to talk about how we’d probably be mates when we grew up. Oh! Sorry,” he glanced apologetically at Talia, but she smiled softly. “But then it was that day. We were twelve, but I knew as soon as he was in trouble, even though I was home. And then he was gone.”  
“I felt it too. Like a dread. I even rushed to the school, but he was gone.”  
“It was probably a pack bond,” Peter suggested. “That’s helpful, actually. If you both had a bond with him, and it snapped, he wasn’t kept in town.”  
“Additionally, perhaps Scott might be able to help Stiles. When he remembers you, it will be from when you were a child. He may be less afraid of you,” Talia suggested.  
“I’ll do anything you think will help. I’ve never stopped-,” he looked at the sheriff, seemingly thinking better than finishing the thought. 

The sheriff reluctantly left with Deaton and Scott, all of them promising to return the next day.

“What do we do, Peter? Do you really think we can help him?”  
“I don’t know. We have to try, for his sake and for Derek. But if you were afraid, don’t you think knowing the people who had hurt you would never be able to get you again would help?”  
“So we find out who took him?”  
“And we make sure they’re in no position to do anything like it again.”

* * * * * 

When Stiles had finally dozed off again, Derek sought out his mother.  
“Mom, why does he keep presenting for Alphas?”  
Talia looked at him, mouth poised as if to answer, except nothing came out. She shook her head, just a small movement, and he was almost certain there were tears in her eyes.  
“Mom?”  
“You need to be there for him, Baby. No matter what.”  
“Of course I will be. You don’t even have to say that.” He wasn’t insulted though, because there was nothing accusatory about the way she said it, just a kind of weariness. Sadness maybe.

“Did you know a lot of Omegas Mom? They used to be more common weren’t they?”  
“I don’t know about common. But we didn’t have the technology when I was young. The stuff that helps them hide, and be safe, these days. But that can backfire, too.”  
Yeah. They could be tracked. And found. Derek wondered if Omegas just used to hide out. He’d heard single-sex boarding schools used to be common, and they’d have huge balls where all the eligible Alphas and Betas would go in the hope that one of them would be a mate for a pretty Omega. Maybe the structure helped. These days people felt safer with all the technology, but were they?

“I’m sorry.” Cora appeared, slumping into a chair, resting her head on the kitchen table.  
“Why are you sorry?” Talia asked.  
“It’s my fault. Sheriff Stilinski said he knew because he heard a rumor. I think it was me.”  
“Who did you tell?” Derek growled.  
“I’m sorry!” Cora wailed it this time, tears filling her eyes. “I just told Heather, who’s the Omega at school, and there were a few other people in the library, and we were talking about it, and talking about Omega Rights. That must be how it got out.”  
“Derek,” his mother warned, “there’s no point being angry now. It would have come out at some point.”  
“But we might know who took him. We could have been making him safer. Now everyone knows we have an unmated Omega in our house.”  
“No. I told everyone he was your mate. So they’ll think he’s mated.”  
“How will that help though? He’s still an Omega.”  
“Seriously, Derek, school.” Cora welcomed Marla to her side, petting the huge wolfy head.  
“So educate me then, Brat.”  
“Derek.”  
“Sorry, Mom. But I just _need_ to know how I can help keep him safe.”  
“When Omegas are mated, two things happen,” Cora recited, like she was reading from a textbook. “First, their enticing scent is vastly minimized to anyone who is not their mate, and to anyone else the scent is a combined one. Plus, male Omegas can only be impregnated by their mate, so they’re safe from being kidnapped for breeding purposes. Eurgh. Why are people so gross?”  
“That I can’t tell you, darling,” Talia admitted.  
“So, you just have to mate him, Derek.”

Derek looked between his mom and sister, blushing lightly.  
“What’s the problem?”  
“Cora, you’re sixteen, you shouldn’t be thinking of this stuff.”  
“Prude. Sex ed is important.  
“Anyway, even though you won’t talk about it, Mom, I don’t want to push Stiles into mating before he’s ready.”  
“Okay, but it will keep him a lot safer from random people who might want him only because he’s Omega.”  
“I won’t pressure him, Mom. You’ve seen how scared he is.”  
“And I wouldn’t expect you to, of all people. I know you’d never pressure someone. But perhaps you should talk about it with him.”

When Derek went back upstairs, he whistled for Marla to join him, hoping she’d help keep Stiles calm. He needed to know more about him, and he knew Stiles wasn’t going to want to talk about it.

Stiles was watching a cartoon, his eyes flicking to Derek when he came in and went to the bed, calling Marla up to curl next to him. He didn’t say anything, just petted her head, waiting to see what Stiles would do. Finally, he stood, approaching and perching on the edge of the bed, also reaching to tickle Marla’s ears.  
“That man,” he said eventually, “is he- I know him, don’t I?”  
“You don’t remember him?”  
“I think I do. He’s my father?”  
“Yes.”  
“I shouldn’t have…”  
“I don’t think you could help it. Will you tell me how long you were in your wolf form for?”  
“I don’t know. A long time. I travelled. I don’t know what I was following. Instinct, maybe. I just went where I was drawn to. I remember just knowing I had to escape.”  
“Were you a wolf before you escaped?”  
“Yes. I, uh, I shifted one day and I realized if I didn’t shift back they wouldn’t…they wouldn’t use me. They didn’t want me when I was a wolf. They beat me to try get me to shift, but I got to the point where I couldn’t have even if I’d wanted to.”  
Derek had tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Stiles, you didn’t deserve that.”  
“What do you mean? It’s what we were for.”  
“We?”  
“Yeah. Me, and the other Omegas. I shouldn’t have shifted. It only made it worse for the others. I tried to shift back, I really did, I just couldn’t. And then I thought if I left they’d forget about me, and maybe the Alphas wouldn’t be so angry, and the others would have been safer.”  
“Do you know where you travelled from?”  
Stiles shook his head.

“If you’re my mate, why haven’t you claimed me?” he asked, suddenly. “I know I’m not a good mate to have, but the Alphas seem to like to claim. Or at least they like to roleplay it. Do Betas not like to do that? Or is it because I’m broken?”  
“Goddess,” Derek breathed, feeling sick. “Stiles, the only reason I haven’t claimed you is because you’ve been through awful things, that no one – no Omega – should have to go through, and I don’t want to make it worse for you. I want you to _want_ it. I want to do it properly.”  
“I don’t know how, though. Why don’t you just take what you want?”  
“Stiles, I think you’ve had a long time of people telling you you’re worthless, and that you don’t have a say in what happens to you, and it just isn’t true, but I know it might take you a while to realize it.”  
“I’m sorry you’re stuck with me.”  
“Stiles, please, listen to my heartbeat, can you hear?”  
Stiles nodded seriously, listening.  
“I like you, and I would like you even if you weren’t my mate. You’re sweet and have a nice laugh, and you’re clever, I can tell already, even if you missed school. When you smile it makes my heart feel good. You’re literally the prettiest person I’ve ever seen, inside and out, and I want you. You might have gone through some things that make you _feel_ broken, but you aren’t broken to me. You’re perfect. And you’ll still be perfect when you’ve learned to believe in your worth.”

Stiles stared with wonder in his eyes, his pink lips slightly parted.  
“You mean it.”  
“I do.”  
“So you want us to bond? To be real mates? Not playacting?”  
“I do.”  
“Will you do it?”  
“As soon as you’re ready.”  
“No. I mean, will you do it now? I’m ready now.”

Marla leapt off the bed with an indignant huff as Derek pulled Stiles to him with gentle but insistent hands. He covered his mouth, tasting and tickling his way inside, letting out an fervent gasp as Stiles responded with equal need.  
He broke away only long enough to pant, “You are truly sure you want this?”  
“More than anything,” Stiles smiled back, pressing forward again, pushing Derek’s body down onto the bed.

Every move they made was in sync, as if they could read minds, or at least as if their desire was matched. Derek held Stiles above him, his hands firm on narrow hips, guiding his rhythmic movements as they joined, and as he burrowed sharpened canines deep into Stiles’ scent gland, for the mating bite. Once he had lapped the wound closed, he bared his own neck, knowing that the unusual practice would mean something special to his mate, as it did to him. Stiles only faltered for a moment, before his own sharp teeth broke through, the act making both of them tumble off the cliff in a moment of impassioned unity.

Some time later, when they’d taken their fill of each other one and a half more times (the shower took a while, and wasn’t quite an exercise in getting clean), Stiles assured Derek he was ready to meet the whole pack properly, and they made their way downstairs, slowly, due to being wrapped in each other’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like strong Stiles, who can get through the awful things that happen to him. And now he has Derek, he's going to get there 😘


	3. You’re a Hideous Thing Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Derek was whistling the next morning when he left his room.  
>  “You’re happy,” Peter chuffed.  
> “My room smells like him, like us.”  
> “Everything about you does,” Peter complained, but he had a smile on his face._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all kicking off
> 
> Plus, I went insane writing this - I kept switching into present tense, doh, and then, for some obscure reason, I just randomly started writing Derek in 1st person - like a loon. Hopefully I picked the mistakes up when I read through but, if not, sorry.

“I’m so sorry, Stiles!” Cora wailed, as soon as they reached the bottom step, entering the huge living area.   
Stiles shrank into Derek’s side, his fingertips digging harshly into ribs as Cora clambered up from her slumped position on the couch, her eyes wide and watery, but not coming closer.

“Why is she sorry?” Stiles whispered to Derek.  
“Because she’s dumb,” Derek growled, his eyes flashing at his sister as he stroked Stiles’ back in an attempt at comfort.  
“It’s my fault the sheriff came. And that people know about you. I spoke to an Omega at school, I wanted to have more information. So I could help you, and understand more. I’m sorry.”  
Stiles looked to Derek. He was still shaking a little, still pressed in hard, but he lifted his chin and spoke clearly.  
“Thank you, for trying.” But his head sank again as he whispered, “I’m not worth the effort.”  
“You are. You are worth every effort,” Derek whispered right into his ear, though of course Cora would have no trouble hearing. But it was for his mate, his priority. 

“Well done, Derek,” Peter announced himself before coming in from the kitchen archway, and he stayed well back.  
“What for?”  
“You’ve completed the bond. Stiles will be safe from wondering scum, at least. Stiles, may I come closer?”  
Stiles took Derek’s hand in his, squeezing hard, but he nodded, and Peter walked far enough to sit in the large armchair, and Cora perched on the arm, briefly scenting her uncle with a swipe of her wrist over his shoulders. Derek tugged Stiles down onto a couch, onto his lap, so he could wrap him in comfort, knowing that Peter wasn’t great at the softly, softly approach.

“You were twelve when they took you,” Peter said. “Do you remember?”  
“Most of my memories from early on aren’t really complete. I remember my father, like individual memories – him playing baseball with me in the park, picnics with my mom, cooking dinner for him when he’d come home late after a shift, after my mom-,” Stiles took a deep breath. “Anyway, that. I don’t remember the day they took me. They probably drugged me. They’d do that a lot. Whenever I caused them problems. When they wanted to move me, or send me to someone’s house.”  
“Why would they send you to someone’s house?” Cora asked innocently, though she blanched at the growls from both Derek and Peter.  
“The place you were living, what was it like?” Peter said.  
“The Facility? A big building. White, and square. One story, though there were basements.” Stiles shuddered. “I had a room. White walls, a bed, a locked door. I suppose it looked a bit like a hospital? But it wasn’t one, even though they had doctors and nurses. There were offices, and a reception desk and waiting room. They had rooms that they, uh, hired out. Some Omegas shared rooms, but I had one of my own. I think it was because I always fought.”  
“I bet you did, Stiles,” Peter said with a small, proud, smile. “I’m getting a sense of you. Yes, I bet you did.”  
“They made sure we didn’t know what time of day it was, or the date. I don’t know how long I was there. They’d let us outside, sometimes, in groups, with guards, but not every day. I tried to keep a tally when I first got there, but they found it when I had fifty tally marks, and fixed the wall, and they punished me. And after that they checked my room, until I’d lost track.”  
“Sounds a little like a prison,” Peter suggested, softly. Derek could tell his mom had come in behind them, from her study, but Peter didn’t react, and neither did Stiles.

Derek knew Peter’s was training, but he wondered about Stiles.  
“Peter, when Stiles first arrived, he was weak because of his injuries-,”  
“And because he’s Omega, yes.”  
Stiles growled at that, and Derek mentally slapped himself for thinking it was cute.  
“He won’t stay weaker though,” Cora announced.  
“What do you mean?”  
“He’s mated now. Omegas only have reduced healing and weaker bodies before they’re mated. He’ll start to get stronger now, and his hearing and scent receptors will improve. They’ll probably end up as strong as Derek’s.” She looked at the surprised faces around her. “Seriously, read a book. Anyway, Heather told me that. And,” she looked around and lowered her tone, as if afraid of enemy forces surrounding them, “there’s another one.”  
“Another what, darling?” her mom asked, making Stiles jump.  
“Another Omega. Well, there’s a few at school, like about six, I think. But, listen, I don’t want to get her into trouble. She only spoke to me because of hearing about Stiles, and even she says she’s never met a male Omega. But she asked me not to say anything. And, well, she smells like an Alpha.”  
“How do you know she isn’t?” Derek asked.  
“She washed it off. It’s like a spray, but she says she takes suppressants too. She let me scent her – she’s definitely Omega. But she says her dad wants her to hide it because they’re treated like property and she’s better than that, and she says he trains her and stuff, so she’s almost as strong as a Beta, and she’s easily as smart as any Alpha. But she isn’t registered, so _please_ don’t say anything.”  
“Okay, so what does this mystery hidden Omega mean to us?” Derek asked.  
“She knows so much more than they teach us at school. She says her dad’s a bit obsessive about it. He has a bunch of old books and he’s always researching. He knows some shady people, she says, because he runs an arms business, and that’s how she got the suppressants, and he developed the Alpha spray himself.”

Peter gasped and shot up out of his seat, almost knocking Cora to the floor, his eyes flashing red. Stiles yelped and burrowed his head into Derek’s neck, quaking.  
“What the hell, Peter?” Derek growled, but the man was gone, bounding up the stairs and slamming the door to his office.  
“What was that for?” Cora wondered and her mother approached, consoling her through scent.  
“Don’t worry darling, you know what Peter’s like when he gets an idea.”

She took Peter’s seat, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees.  
“Do you think you could meet Derek’s dad, Stiles? He’s Beta.”  
Stiles slowly lifted his head, nodding slowly, and Talia stood.  
“Good. I’ll go help him with dinner.”  
“Wait! Oh, sorry, no. I mean, Alpha, please.”  
“Don’t worry, Stiles. You’re safe here.”  
“Um, I think… I think I know that, or starting to. I just wanted to say thank you. For being patient. And for- for not wanting anything bad.”  
Talia’s eyes flashed red, then, but she cast them away from Stiles. “Those people will not get you, Stiles. We will protect you. I promise you that.”  
Derek gasped. His mom was incredibly cool and calm, for an Alpha, and he always suspected that was his dad’s peaceful Beta influence, and she wasn’t one for making rash statements. He already knew he would fight to the death for his mate, should it ever become necessary, but that promise from his mom, who never made a promise she didn’t mean, meant everything to him.

* * * * * 

The meeting with Derek’s dad, Michael, went well, and dinner was a happy affair. Derek knew his mom had asked Laura to stay at her own home for the evening, which he appreciated, but by the end of dinner, Stiles had even unpeeled himself from Derek’s side and was having an animated conversation with Mal about some movie with a shiny metal superhero, while Marla rested her head on his knee.

“Would you like to see my bedroom?” Derek asked as they went up the stairs later. Stiles agreed, and Derek was happy he’d made sure it was tidy, because he’d barely spent any time there since Stiles had come into his life.

Stiles stood just inside, taking little huffing breaths.  
“It smells _really_ good,” he turned to Derek, his pupils blown huge, and Derek pulled him close, kissing him softly, until Stiles pressed in harder, his tongue insistent, nibbling Derek’s lower lip and sucking it between his teeth.  
“Stiles,” Derek growled, “you’re doing things to me.”  
“That’s good, isn’t it? I don’t really-,”  
“It’s so good, Baby. Do you know what would make my room smell even better? If it had our combined scents. Wanna help?”

Stiles laughed, and Derek felt his heart stutter in joy until his mate pulled away, only to take a flying leap onto his bed, bouncing on his knees and looking expectantly back. Derek was on him, and their clothes disappeared in a litany of kisses on revealed skin, sensitive fingers exploring, soft, whispered words of praise. Derek positioned Stiles with a pillow under his hips, lifting them a little so he could-  
“Wait,” Stiles was breathless, but Derek heard the patter of his nervous heart, his scent twisting into something sharper.  
“Baby, what? Do you want to stop?”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be, please. Just tell me.”  
“I don’t want to be like this. Can I face you?”

Derek easily lifted Stiles, lovingly laying him on his back, bending to pass kisses over his raised mating gland, careful not to press against his body.  
“Are you okay?”  
“I’m sorry,” he said again, making grabby hands to pull Derek down, but he resisted.  
“I won’t do that again. Is there anything else?”  
“There might be. I don’t really know. I didn’t know that until it happened. Maybe…um, I’d like to taste you, sometime soon, but we might have to be careful how we do that.”  
“We will be,” though Derek’s brain threatened to shut off at the mere thought of Stiles’ mouth on him that way. “I will _always_ stop if you ask me to. No matter what it is or when. I need you to know that.”  
“I understand. But now, please…”  
Derek lowered himself to kiss Stiles, to use the swing of his body against the smaller one beneath him, to apply delicate touches until Stiles was ready to accept him, to rock into him and watch his eyes go wide, closing in pleasure, flicking open and flashing silver in desire.  
“Perfect,” he murmured, swallowing Stiles’ mewls of completion, baring his neck so Stiles could suck at the mating gland, that he didn’t understand why everyone didn’t get, because his vision went white with the force of the connection between them.

* * * * *

Derek was whistling the next morning when he left his room.  
“You’re happy,” Peter chuffed.  
“My room smells like him, like us.”  
“Everything about you does,” Peter complained, but he had a smile on his face. “Is he prepared for his father coming back?"  
"We spoke a little this morning. He’s embarrassed. I explained it wasn’t his fault. He’s been conditioned, I guess.”  
“You guess?”  
“I’m not going to make him go over every detail. He was abused. By Alphas. I don’t need more than that.”  
“For your own peace of mind, sure, but what about for the information it could give us in finding the place? In saving other Omegas? It’s clear the place is some kind of slave ring, just from what he’s said. What if they have senators or celebrities or other prominent people? It wouldn’t be the first time a ring like that has been bust open by an escaping Omega.”

Derek bowed his head, guilty that he’d been thinking so personally about it. He just didn’t want Stiles to have to relive what he’d gone through, but Peter was right. It wasn’t only about Stiles.   
Peter patted his shoulder. “I know it isn’t easy. Goddess only knows what I’d do if I suddenly found myself with a mate who had gone through something like that. How about we see how the meeting with his father goes, and revisit the idea later?”  
“Thanks Peter.”

Noah Stilinski wasn’t going to make it until his shift was over later that afternoon, but just after lunch they were surprised by Scott arriving.  
“Hello, Alpha,” he greeted Talia politely. Technically, Scott was Alpha to his family pack, which only consisted of him and his Beta mom, as he’d never been much of a one for surrounding himself, not since Stiles vanished. Perhaps it was why he got on so well with Deaton, who, as a Maned Wolf, also didn’t have the usual need for pack most other sub-species had. So, Scott was a pack Alpha and didn’t _need_ to be deferential to Talia. But Talia was still the Mayoral Alpha of the town, and Scott greeted her appropriately.   
“Hello, Scott. Are you hoping to see Stiles?”  
“If he’s willing. Does he know about me?”  
“I don’t think Derek has discussed you yet. He was a little shaken by seeing his father.”  
“Of course.”

Derek looked at Stiles over the chess game they were playing. Derek was teaching him, hypothetically, though Stiles was already beating him fair and square.  
“Can you hear?” he whispered.  
“I can.”  
“Your hearing’s already improving then. That’s great.”  
Stiles nodded, but he was still listening, waiting to find out what Talia said.  
“Do you want to see him? Do you remember him?”  
“Bits. Same as my dad, I guess. I can remember him trying to teach me to play team sports, even though I was a lot weaker than the other players. And I remember him protecting me. Getting in between me and pushy A-Alphas.”  
Derek heard the way Stiles stumbled on the word, his heart matching, and Derek’s own heart cracked a little.

But then Talia came in, speaking quietly so Scott couldn’t hear from the foyer.  
“Will you see Scott, Stiles? I can tell him you’re not ready, I think he’d understand.”  
“No, thank you Alpha. I’ll see him.”  
“Please Stiles, we’re family now. Call me Talia. You only have to call me Alpha when you’re in trouble.”  
It was a joke, but Stiles still looked terrified as she span back out, so Derek pulled him close, soothing him with scent and murmurs.

“Hi, oh, sorry.” Scott’s olive skin flushed at the intimate moment, but Derek just moved to let Stiles sit by him, Scott taking Stiles’ previous seat.  
“You play chess, Stiles?” Scott asked softly. “I was never any good at those clever games like you.”  
“You weren’t?”  
“Do you remember, we used to play computer games a lot?”  
“Oh, yeah.”  
Derek could hear the lie, so he knew Scott could too, but he just smiled sadly.  
“What about school?” Derek asked.  
“I remember Mr Monroe’s class,” Stiles announced, and Scott laughed, and they were off, then, more mutual memories coming to light.

Derek went to make drinks, knowing his mate was comfortable with Scott. He only hoped the transition would be so easy with his father. Now they realized why the sheriff had changed to the hardened all-business law enforcer, Derek felt his pain. He’d only had Stiles for weeks, but the thought of him being torn away made his blood run cold. 

His dad was in the kitchen, marinating something gamey-smelling.  
“You been hunting?”  
“Your sister and Danny brought in a deer last week on date night. Oh, I see that look. I’m sure I can expect something equally impressive when you go out with Stiles.”  
Derek laughed for a moment, but it faded out.  
“I don’t even know if Omegas like to hunt. I don’t know enough, dad.”  
“So learn,” he said, like it was so easy.  
Derek huffed.  
“Do you know how little I knew about Alphas when I met your mother? Look at me, do you really think this small, delicate Beta thought he’d end up with a dynamic, ambitious Alpha like your mom? I had to learn; not just the rules society expected, though luckily your mom isn’t hung up on them, but the other stuff, too. The history, the biology. Everything. You have to do the same.”  
Derek looked at his dad. Huh. He was kind of delicate looking. And small. It wasn’t something Derek noticed, maybe because he never _seemed_ small around his mom, despite her own height. Derek suspected it was a confidence thing, and he _really_ wanted to give Stiles the same kind of confidence. 

Derek had taken up position in the window seat of the family room, reluctant to be far from Stiles, but reading a book so as to not make it obvious he was listening to Scott and Stiles catching up. He was happy Stiles was remembering more, and it mainly seemed happy, but he’d never especially liked Scott. The boy was a little too arrogant for Derek’s taste. The kind who didn’t think he needed other people. But if Derek was being fair, maybe that had something to do with him losing his best friend all those years ago and never knowing what had happened to him.

He was distracted from his thoughts by the sound of two cars on the gravel of the drive. He checked his watch, Cora and Mal should be one of them, but they weren’t expecting the Sheriff for another hour.  
“Stay with Scott, Stiles,” he instructed, striding into the hallway. He could see his mother crossing the living room and listened hard as doors slammed outside.  
“Dad!”   
The girl wasn’t one he’d heard before, but she sounded close to tears.  
“What are you doing, Allison?”  
“Why did you follow me here?”  
“You know the rules, Alli. I’ll not ask again.”  
“Cora asked for my help, Dad. Please.”

Talia was standing by the door but had made no move to open it, putting her finger to her lips as they continued to listen. There was the sound of yet another car.  
“Chris, you’re not supposed to be here today,” Peter said, and Derek raised an eyebrow at his mom, who shrugged.  
“I’m not here to see you. I followed Allison, who seems to have some kind of white knight syndrome.”  
“What are you talking about, Dad? I told you, I’m just helping her, with…something,” she blustered, obviously trying to not lie.  
“Your training is missing a component.”  
“Shut up, Hale. And how does she know you’re in any position to help her, Alli?”

Talia finally opened the door.  
“Perhaps we should take this inside,” she said before turning to Derek and whispering, “Perhaps you should warn Stiles.”  
Derek turned, but he didn’t need to warn him, as he and Scott were standing in the doorway of the family room, both wide eyed and nervous. Derek stayed, blocking the entrance to the hallway.

Peter came first, with an uncharacteristically quiet Cora, and Mal.  
“I know,” Mal huffed, “I’ll go do my homework in my room.”  
Cora sat on one of the couches and the girl who was presumably Allison sat next to her, looking up in trepidation at the dirty-blond Alpha who towered above her.

Derek heard a gasp from behind him and looked. Scott was staring, vibrating in place, while Stiles held his arm. He was shaking too, though that could have just been because of Scott, but he was sniffing, his head down.

“Why have you washed the spray off, Alli?” Chris asked.  
Allison looked at Cora, and then back to her father.  
“Mom,” Cora said.  
“Okay, Cora. Chris, we know your daughter is an Omega. She’s safe here, and so is her secret. Derek?”  
He stepped forward.  
“I think Cora and Allison are just trying to help,” he suggested, but he wasn’t quite ready to out his mate to this total stranger, even if Peter and his mom obviously knew him.

Just then, yet another car could be heard, and everyone lifted their heads.  
“Stiles,” Derek called, and both he and Scott came forward, Stiles still sniffing desperately. When they were close, Allison sat up, her eyes flashing violet for a moment, as Scott’s flashed red in response.  
“Oh, my,” was Peter, with a lascivious grin.   
“Oh, no, no way. You’re too young,” Chris said, sternly, but his daughter wasn’t hearing a thing he said, staring at Scott.  
“Looks like the Goddess has a plan, after all,” Peter laughed.

Sheriff Stilinski came up the steps then, pausing in the open doorway at the tableau before him.  
“Argent? What are you doing here?”  
“Argent?” Stiles whispered, and everyone’s eyes span to him. “No…no, it can’t be.”

He was gone before Derek could reach for him, down the corridor and into the kitchen. Derek let instinct guide him, ignoring everyone standing with their mouths open, following his mate. His dad was there, just as shocked as everyone else, as Stiles had gone straight out of the kitchen door, and Derek could see him shedding his t-shirt as he ran across the garden, directly for the tree-line, slipping the too-big trackpants off his narrow hips as he simultaneously shifted, his glossy brown-furred wolf leaping into the trees and vanishing instantly into the darkness.

Derek stripped his shirt off and unfastened his jeans, his fingers clumsy in his haste. Just as he shifted he was overtaken by a blur of silver fur as Marla took off, entering the forest at the same point Stiles had. Derek was close behind, sniffing for Stiles’ scent, following an old deer track at top speed. He caught up with Marla and she yipped at him, keeping pace. Derek wouldn’t be able to keep top rate for long, but then, hopefully Stiles wouldn’t either. 

Marla turned her head sharply, nipping into Derek’s withers, knocking him off course. Just in time, he managed to pull up, because they’d reached the brook that ran through the preserve: Stiles’ scent went right into it. It wasn’t deep here, but it was one of the wider points. He ran across, trying to pick Stiles’ scent up on the other side, but he couldn’t find anything. Marla yipped, ignoring Derek’s increasingly frantic sniffing, pointing her nose down the waterway. No! Stiles had lost them? On purpose? His legs almost gave out at the pain the thought gave, but Marla gave several rough yaps, before joining Derek on the other side and nipping again, this time on his marked scent gland.

It took him a moment, but then he felt a pull of panic. She wanted Derek to use the bond instead of Stiles’ scent. He closed his eyes, focusing on his heart to find the bond, feeling the pull again, a twist of fear. He could follow it, through the trees now, off the path, Marla close behind in the narrow space. Derek was focused, the sense getting stronger, they were getting closer. Then he heard it, a pained whine, followed by a deep growl. Not Stiles. Derek put a final burst of speed, relying on his instincts to prevent himself getting brained on a tree, bursting into a clearing to the sight of Stiles cowering at the other side, his head submissively down as a huge wolf, even bigger than Derek – even bigger than Talia or Peter – paced toward him with an angry rumbling growl.

Derek howled a challenge, and the huge wolf turned, huffing a laugh. But then Marla growled too, from his side and he looked as if he were evaluating. Derek was debating a direct attack, when Marla beat him to it. She leapt, but the wolf grasped her scruff right out of the air, jerking his head and flinging her right into a broad tree, where there was a vicious crack, and she slumped, still, at the base. 

Derek howled again, as Stiles let out an anguished cry, crouching and shuffling toward Marla. Derek faced the flashing red eyes of the wolf, setting his challenge with his own bright blue ones. He would do this, he would protect his mate with everything he had. There was a crashing behind him but he didn’t break contact or the low growl of warning, but he scented his mother and Peter. This enemy wolf was bigger, but not than all three of them, and he barked a last shout of anger before turning and sprinting away, leaving Derek panting with the unused adrenaline as he sped to Stiles’s side, pushing his nose into Stiles’ scent gland and breathing in his mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it 😁 Let me know your thoughts in the comments


	4. Open My Hands and Let Them Weave Onto Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _When Noah came back, he stood tentatively, looking down on Stiles burrowed against Derek.  
>  “Thank you,” he whispered.  
> “What for?”  
> “Being his mate. I don’t know if the reason he found his way back here was because the Goddess was guiding him to you, but I can only be grateful.”  
> “So am I,” Derek admitted._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is becoming a standard warning: past abuses being discussed

Derek strode into the kitchen, cradling Stiles in his arms, Peter following with a whimpering Marla.  
“Will she be okay?” Talia asked as she pulled her jeans back on, slipping her arms back into her blue-striped shirt.  
“I don’t know,” Peter sounded worried as he lay her carefully on the kitchen table before turning to his own discarded clothing.  
“Let me down,” Stiles insisted, wriggling out of Derek’s arms to run to Marla’s side.  
“Here,” Michael passed Derek his own clothes, and Stiles’, which he must have gathered from the garden when they were on their chase.

Stiles was still leaning into Marla’s nape, clothed now, his hands gently passing over her body, when Scott came in.  
“Uh, maybe I can look at her?”  
Derek almost growled, but managed to pull his protective instinct back just in time, just nodding instead. Scott didn’t ask Stiles to move, softly patting his shoulder in solidarity instead; another move that made Derek have to hold down his disapproval. But Scott was the best person to assess Marla, and the fact that all she did was let out a weak mewl when he pressed her side proved that she needed it desperately. 

Scott poked and prodded with careful fingers, ignoring the occasional growls from Marla, and Derek, with professionalism, finally pulling back with a sigh.  
“I’ve taken some of her pain. I think she’d be unconscious without that. She has internal bleeding in her abdomen, and I believe she has a broken shoulder as well. I think Dr Deaton will need to operate.  
“No,” Stiles whimpered, and Derek went to him, pulling him close.  
“She’ll be okay. She’s as tough as you.” He kissed Stiles’ clammy forehead as Michael picked Marla up.   
“I’ll go with Scott,” he announced, before Stiles could get more distressed, though Derek could feel his mate shaking against him.

It got worse, as Allison came into the kitchen.  
“I’ll go too.”  
“No you won’t young lady,” Talia’s eyes flashed. “You and your father have some explaining to do.”  
“I don’t-,”  
“Alli, stay,” Chris ordered. “There’s things we have to talk about. Besides, if you think I’m leaving you with that Alpha, you have another think coming.” He growled the last bit, and Allison huffed, looking every inch the rebellious teenager Derek was sure she was.

Then everyone was settled in the living room, Michael and Scott having left with Marla. Chris had the sense to choose a seat on the far side of the room, and made Allison sit beside him, but it didn’t help Stiles’ tenseness. Sheriff Stilinski had chosen a seat to the right of the couch Derek and Stiles were on, clearly wanting to be closer but uncertain how to approach his son. Cora sat beside Stiles and tentatively put a hand on his thigh, which he grasped after a moment of uncertainty, giving her a grateful smile. Peter and Talia had visibly allocated themselves as mediators, between everyone else, Talia on the right of the room and Peter on the left.

“So, I think we should start with you, Stiles. Why did you run?” Peter asked.  
“I think you know.”  
“I only know you found the scent of Allison and Chris distressing, and that you bolted when you heard their name. But I don’t know what it means until you tell us.”  
“The Facility. They run it. The Argent family.”  
“What?” Chris seemed genuinely confused, his heartbeat peaking but steady.  
“Well, obviously not you, Chris. You’re too busy to collect Omegas and abuse them.”  
Chris’ face screwed up at Peter’s words.  
“I haven’t spoken to my family in seventeen years, Peter, you know that.”  
“I do. But I don’t know why. Now would seem a good time to talk about it, don’t you think?”

Chris took a breath, running his hands over his stubbled chin.  
“When Alli was born…”  
“Of course. Your family has never been a friend to Omegas. They must have hated their princling producing an Omega offspring.”  
“Yes, well. You’re wrong, anyway. They help Omegas. But my father reacted badly to having one in the family. He was downright furious. He wanted to send her to the Omega center. Not have us bring her up. As soon as she was born! Can you believe? Anyway, I couldn’t have that. She was perfect. But Victoria was horrified. Everyone had been so sure we’d bear Alphas because we’re both Alpha, and even though it’s hard to produce offspring in Alpha-Alpha partnerships he made us have fertility treatment until Victoria caught, but it isn’t as simple as that.”  
“Genetics rarely is. Plenty of people in your families playing with Omegas I suspect. Hidden love and all that. And that recessive gene just keeps going, hidden away.”  
Derek growled at Peter, and even Talia’s eyes flashed.  
“Shut up, Uncle Peter, let the man talk,” Cora huffed, and Peter sat back with a smirk at his niece.   
“Well, there isn’t anything else to say. I left. Ran. Taking Alli as far away as I could.”  
“My mother isn’t dead? She just didn’t want me?” Allison asked with a whimper.  
“I’m sorry Alli. It was better…I don’t even know. I haven’t had any communication with them since you were born.”

“What do you mean, your family helps Omegas?” Noah asked, not caring about their family skeletons.  
“They ran an Omega center. My father has always had…old fashioned ideas about Omegas. We were never allowed to go to the center, but they would train Omegas out of their Omega tendencies.”  
“Oh?” Stiles sounded a little dangerous, and Derek pulled him closer. “What Omega ‘tendencies’ are you referring to?”  
“I’m not saying it was right,” Chris gestured to Allison. “It’s bullshit genderism. I thought it then and I think it even more now. But it was common for families to want to give up their Omega children, especially as they got older and weaker, because a lot of people think of it as a birth defect, and they were likely to die. So my family had somewhere safe to put them, and my father said they were developing scientific ways to reduce the negative aspects, like the weakness without mates, and the overwhelming desire to breed.”  
“What?” Stiles and Allison spoke at the same time, disgust strong in both of them.   
“I’m sorry, I’m saying what he said. _I_ don’t think that. It’s why I had to get Alli away, though. He was talking about her being a good experimental case, and that they could find a lot from her genetics, because her parents were both Alphas.”  
“He wanted to experiment on me?”  
“Yes. I’m sorry, Alli. And your mother supported it, so I had to run. You understand, don’t you?”  
“Is this why you do it, too, though? You train me so hard I’m as strong as a Beta. And you make me study so much, and take the suppressants, because you want me to not be an Omega?”  
“No, sweetheart, I don’t care you’re an Omega, I promise. I want you strong and smart so you’re _safe_. Safe from people with those kinds of backwards opinions. Safe from not having a mate.”  
No one commented on the fact that Allison clearly _did_ have a mate, now.

“I think it’s safe to say that your father’s little ‘center for the improvement of Omegas’ is nothing of the sort,” Peter sneered.  
“What are you saying?”  
“They had no inclination to get rid of my ‘desire to breed’,” Stiles’ sneer was almost as marked as Peter’s and the Alpha sent an approving glance to him, even as Derek gulped down bile.   
“Stiles, darling, I think you’re going to have to tell us explicitly. We need to know what we’re up against,” Talia said gently.

Stiles looked up at Derek, his clear brown eyes swimming in emotion, before he looked down.  
“They keep Omegas locked in rooms, and they charge Alphas for their use. To, you know, have sex. A lot of the Alphas like to do it because they can be rough. The workers always said that no one would ever be so rough with their own mate, but that Omegas are made for it, so it didn’t matter. I don’t know when it started. It wasn’t straight away. There were doctors, and when I was first there they just ran tests and stuff, taking blood, and injecting me with things so they could monitor the results. There were others there, my own age, I think, and younger. But when I had my first heat they moved me to the other building, and that’s when it started. They sold my first heat, to some big Alpha who made me bleed. And then it was just heat for a while. Because I couldn’t fight, I think.”

Derek could hear a low growl, and thought it was only coming from him, but then realized Noah was showing his fury in unison.  
“And it got worse?” Peter prompted. Derek knew he wanted to find out if there was some way they could take the place down, but he really wished the man would leave it, now and forever, as he felt his mate suck in air, tears dripping off his eyelashes.  
“Yeah. Then it was all the time. And they were injecting me all the time too. Sometimes I’d have a fake heat – I could tell because it felt totally different – sometimes I just lost time, or became feral. They were still monitoring everything, and they’d talk over me, as if I wasn’t there. I think they thought they’d broken me, and I wouldn’t listen, or maybe they didn’t think I’d understand.”

“Did you ever know who you were, er, seeing?”  
“No. They had strict rules about names. I just had to call everyone Alpha, or Sir if they requested it. And there was the other thing.”  
“The other thing?”  
“It’s dangerous for an Omega to have pups too young, before their body is fully developed. I know that because it was one of the things they talked about, thinking I didn’t get it, when I was strapped to the medical table during their ‘experiments’. But Omegas who are bred by Alphas are guaranteed to either have Omega or Alpha offspring. Something about the Omega genes always attaching to Alpha or Omega genes over Beta genes. So that was the other side of the Facility. Breeding. For bought adoptions.”

“But, why? Surely even if the child was Alpha, they’d carry a recessive Omega gene. And then it would be more likely for the next generation to be Omega. And they had issues with that,” Chris asked, confused.  
“But, did they really care? Alphas might not be as rare as Omegas, but they’re far rarer than Betas. And they’re incredibly uncommon in adoptions. And a lot of powerful Alphas are desperate for Alpha children as heirs. I’m sure they’d pay a lot for an Alpha pup. And,” Peter paused, his face paling, “I bet they’d pay even more for the pup to be theirs.”   
“Stiles,” Allison asked gently, pain in the lines of her face, “what would they do if the pup was an Omega?”  
“They always needed new Omegas for their experiments. And when – if – they grow up, there’s always the Facility,” Stiles turned his face into Derek’s side, finally breaking down at reliving the horrors.

“I think, perhaps, you should leave,” Noah stood, looking to Talia for support.  
“Chris, we appreciate you listening. I hope we can rely on your support when we work out how we are going to proceed with this,” Talia said, shaking Chris’ hand, but with sternness in her very being. Chris and Allison were probably in some kind of shock, but Derek couldn’t care about that, as he held Stiles’ narrow body close, only staying strong because he _had_ to, for the sake of his mate.

When Noah came back, he stood tentatively, looking down on Stiles burrowed against Derek.  
“Thank you,” he whispered.  
“What for?”  
“Being his mate. I don’t know if the reason he found his way back here was because the Goddess was guiding him to you, but I can only be grateful.”  
“So am I,” Derek admitted.  
“I never stopped looking for him, you know? Alerts across the country. I even got the FBI to use their aging software to see what he’d look like, every year. They didn’t get it particularly right, but I still recognized him immediately.”  
“You can get it back. What you had.”  
“No,” Noah said softly, sadly. “No, I don’t think we can. Maybe if we’d simply missed the time together. But it isn’t that, is it? What they did to him…how can he ever forgive me for not finding him? I should have rescued him.”  
“He rescued himself, Noah. He escaped. I know he seems broken now,” Derek smoothed Stiles’ roughed up hair where he now lay asleep on his thigh, “but he isn’t. He’s stronger than any of us, and maybe it’s partially because of what he went through, but I think more of it is because of you. Because you made him strong before he was lost. And now he’s found again, that’s what’s going to count. But you can’t run away because you blame yourself. Now it’s your turn to find strength.”  
Noah nodded, a weak smile breaking free.

* * * * * 

Stiles was tired, oh so tired. It felt as though everything was catching up with him, and having to – needing to – reveal all of those dark memories had drained him. But, as he lay curled on Derek’s bed, with Derek wrapped around him, he knew there was one final piece of darkness that needed to be brought into the light.  
“You’re wriggly,” Derek chuckled, nuzzling the back of Stiles’ neck.  
“Sorry,” he shuffled so he was laying on his back, and Derek propped himself onto his elbow, his clear green eyes looking down with a wonder Stiles didn’t deserve.

“You know all that stuff from earlier?”  
“Oh, sorry, while you were asleep dad rang. Marla will be okay, but Deaton has her unconscious for a while. He had to operate, and she’s going to be wearing a cone of shame for a while. She’s going to be furious. Someone will probably get bitten, my money’s on Deaton.”  
Derek laughed, a sound that should make Stiles’ heart sing, and it did, surely it did, but it was cut off.  
“There was something I didn’t say.”  
“Oh?” Derek was serious again, a furrow between his dark brows.  
“I’m sorry. I should have told you. So you could reject the mating bond, or something.”  
“What? Baby, you are really freaking me out. Please tell me, so I can get right onto telling you there’s nothing that could make me do that.”  
“I can’t give you pups.”  
“What? How do you know?” He stopped, taking a deep breath and looking at Stiles very gravely. “No. It doesn’t matter. My mate, my perfect mate. If you can’t have pups, it doesn’t bother me. You are my world, and if that’s the case, it means nothing to me. But I would like to know why you think that.”  
“I can’t…I don’t have heats.”  
“The experiments?” Derek asked sympathetically.  
“Um, no. I shifted, and I couldn’t shift back, not until I met you. And I never had heats while I was shifted.”  
“So maybe they’ll come back now. Or maybe they won’t. It’s okay.”  
“They won’t. It isn’t exactly the shift that did it.”  
“Please tell me.”  
“Before I shifted…the reason why. I did it because they wouldn’t use me when I was. But then I found I couldn’t go back.”  
“Okay. That’s okay. You told me that before.”  
“But the reason.” Stiles sucked in a wavering tear, watching his own shaking hands. “They took my pups, Derek. They took them from me. That’s why I shifted.” He couldn’t hold it any more, unable to breathe, sinking down against Derek’s strong body, only allowing himself to focus on the sweet and woody scent of his mate, desperately trying to calm him as he devolved, whimpering out aborted screams of soul-deep agony as he remembered his lost pups.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yes, that's right. That happened.
> 
> The lack of mpreg tag is intentional because I didn't want to give the game away. I hope it doesn't put people off - it's a past thing, though the concept will come up going forward.
> 
> Would love to hear your thoughts: on what's happened, on what might happen, on what you'd like to see.


	5. Let Me Lay Waste To Thee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"But it does make our job more difficult.”_  
>  “Why?”  
> “Darling, if you think we’re going to stop at saving the Omegas in the Facility you don’t know us well. We have to find Stiles’ pups too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was fuuuun
> 
> A little wolfy violence here

When Stiles had finally cried himself into a listless sleep, Derek sought out his mother and Peter, in her study. Talia rubbed the bridge of her nose while Peter had a sharp phone conversation, pacing the room.

Eventually, he returned his phone to his pocket and turned to them.  
“Chris is helping. He knows a lot of people we wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley, but they have contacts. Apparently, his refusal to engage has done him a disservice. It’s common knowledge, it would seem, in those circles, what his family do,”  
“And what _do_ they do?” Talia asked.  
“Exactly what Stiles told us. They take in Omegas, they experiment on them, use them as sex slaves, and they sell the pups. It would seem he’s even smarter than I thought, as they obviously thought he was no risk but, the whole time, he was taking things on board. Anyway, Chris has said he has a particular name that he will follow up with. He wouldn’t give me anything else, so I’m sure his method for obtaining information won’t be anything I should know about, but I trust him to bring us something we can use.”  
“I don’t understand. Cora said male Omegas can only be made pregnant by their mates? Does that mean Stiles has another mate?”  
“What?” Peter and Talia turned to him with stunned faces.  
“Shit. I mean…”  
“No, Derek. Tell the truth.”  
“But I can’t. It’s not mine to tell.”  
“Darling, normally I’d support that, and I’d be proud. But this is bigger than what Stiles has gone through. There’s no doubt there are other Omegas there, right now, that _need_ to be saved. Every piece for information has the potential to be something that could save them.”  
“Stiles had pups, and they took them away. It’s why he shifted.”

Talia and Peter were both pale, sharing a conversation without words in their expressive red eyes.   
“Well, to keep it simple,” Peter began, “male Omegas can only be impregnated by their mate _once_ they’re mated. Before that, any Alpha can do it. Hence the danger they’re in, and why Stiles is safer now because of you. But it does make our job more difficult.”  
“Why?”  
“Darling, if you think we’re going to stop at saving the Omegas in the Facility you don’t know us well. We have to find Stiles’ pups too.”  
Derek looked at his mom with tears in his eyes.  
“You’ll help me?”  
“Help you?”  
“Well, yeah, obviously _I_ was going to get them back.”  
Talia hugged him tightly, and he couldn’t help but smile into her shoulder at the knowledge his family were Stiles’ now too, and would always be there for him.

* * * * * 

Talia had called a council of war. Derek had suggested Stiles stay in their room, as the house would be filled with Alphas, but his always surprising mate had looked at him sharply and reminded him he was the only primary source of information they had.

In the living room were the family, including Laura and Danny and their three young girls, along with Noah, Scott, and Deaton. Allison was there, looking nervous and clutching Cora’s hands, sending longing looks over to Scott. Michael sent the pups into the family room and the movies and popcorn that awaited them. Derek suspected Stiles would have liked to go with them.  
“Are we waiting for Chris?” Talia asked Peter.  
“No. he’ll get here when he does. Deaton, I want to hear your theories.”  
Talia looked surprised but kept quiet.

Deaton turned to Alison, to her obvious shock.  
“You’re not a typical Omega.”  
She shrugged, her nerves obvious. Scott stepped forward as if to protect her, but Deaton held him back with a soothing purr.  
“Tell us how your father trains you.”  
“Um, we do hand-to-hand. I’m not as strong as him, but I know a lot of moves designed to give me time to get away if, if I ever need to. Because of my weaknesses, dad mainly trains me in distance skills. I can shoot perfectly with a gun, but my best weapon is the bow.”  
“So you’re a perfect shot with that, too?”  
“Yes. Dad designed me a special one that functions allowing for my weight and strength-,”  
“But you are a perfect shot?” Deaton repeats.  
“Yes.” Allison’s eyes flicked around the room, her heartbeat wild with worry.  
“Peter?”  
“Yes, it’s unusual, if it’s true. You aren’t overstating?”  
“No. Why would I?” Allison regained a little confidence, but Derek had no idea what the two men were driving at.

“It breaks the stereotypes, sure, but I don’t know why you’re hooked on it,” Talia pushed.  
“It isn’t widely known. When various parties hold Omegas for experimentation they are usually fixated with things like their high ability to breed, or the chance to weaponize their limited healing against enemy forces; there’s various gases and serums for use in warfare developed from unmated-Omega blood. But, anecdotally, Omegas are far more interesting. There’s the suggestion that Omegas carry a spark.”  
“What?” Cora interrupted. “C’mon, I know I keep telling my family to learn more about Omegas, but that _is_ fairy story stuff.”  
“What is?” Derek asked.  
“The spark. It’s fu-ricking magic. It isn’t real.”  
“On the contrary, Cora, there’s a very genuine chance it’s not only real, but something that can elevate Omegas to be even more impressive than their current status shows.”  
“Impressive?” Stiles leaned forward.  
“Yes, Stiles,” Peter smiled lopsidedly. “You don’t think birth rates of seventy percent when those between Alphas and Betas are forty percent, and between same-gender males and females are more like ten percent, are impressive? And you don’t think the organic changes that take place in mated Omegas to improve their senses and their healing are impressive? Or even the biological need that forces them to _find_ those mates – if not impressive, it is at least very interesting.”  
“You sound like you want to do some experiments yourself,” Stiles growled.  
“Not in the least, little wolf. I do want to see you safe, though. And if your spark is real, it could help. We suspect Allison’s spark relates to her weapon abilities, which, based on what Chris has said, and what Allison just told us, are far greater than anything that could be considered normal.”  
“So what do you think my spark is for then?”  
“We don’t know, yet. It seems sparks need to be prompted, and they almost always seem to relate to protection. I am wondering if yours is connected to your wolf somehow, and that’s why you shifted when you needed to be protected,” Deaton suggested.  
“No,” Stiles whispered, “that isn’t it.”  
“You seem sure?”  
“That didn’t protect the only thing that was important.”

Derek took Stiles’ shoulders, turning him, even though he knew everyone would still hear. But he needed Stiles to know he was there for him.  
“What was important?”  
“I shifted for myself,” Stiles hedged, his head hanging. “But I couldn’t shift back, even when they beat me. Even when they threatened me.”  
“What did they threaten you with?”  
“I had four. Three were Alphas. I know they sold them. But they let me keep the Omega for a little longer. I shifted in fear, not even really consciously, when they tried to make me, to make me _see_ someone. When I wouldn’t shift back, and the beatings didn’t work, they took him. They said, they said they’d kill him if I didn’t shift back. I tried, Derek, I tried so hard, but I couldn’t make my wolf back down. When they took him, I had nothing to survive for. I ran, expecting them to kill me with every step I took. I tore myself open when I leapt the wire fence. It took a long time to heal. But I knew how to hide, how to stop them from tracking me. I always listened, they always talked.”

Derek hated pushing his mate, especially as he always said he didn’t know, but his mind was there, maybe he could answer the question that they needed to know the answer to.  
“How long did you stay as a wolf?”  
“I went through four winters. I couldn’t move fast. I knew they were still searching. They couldn’t risk me getting somewhere I could speak. So I had to backtrack, and go out of my way. But I was always following something inside me, that brought me here.”

“Four winters? You were a wolf for four years?” Noah gasped. Stiles just shrugged, still looking at Derek, seeking understanding.  
“You did nothing you didn’t have to, Stiles. I love you.”  
Stiles whimpered, burrowing his face into Derek’s chest. It meant something, though. They wouldn’t be looking for tiny newborn pups. Derek winced at the thought of what might have happened to them in four long years, but soothed his scent for the sake of Stiles.

There was a knock, everyone too dazed to have even registered the car pulling up.  
“We have a problem,” Chris smelled wrong. Sweat and the sharp metallic tang of blood. No one commented, though. Whatever he’d had to do only seemed right.  
“Which is?” Peter asked.  
“They never stopped looking for Stiles, though they had assumed he was dead. You know he escaped almost four years ago?”  
“Yes, yes,” Peter waved his hands irritably like they’d known that for more than five minutes.  
“But they know he’s here. Whoever attacked reported back. It seems they didn’t know it was him, just that it was a vulnerable Omega, but now they do know.”   
Cora hung her head.  
“Anyway, they’re coming for him. They want him back. Something to do with the tests they were running showing something that could make them a lot of money. He didn’t know,” no one asked, or cared, who ‘he’ was, “but apparently they were talking about a big government defense contract. Whatever it is, it’s big. They’re coming all guns blazing.”  
“Shit,” Michael exhaled, “we have pups here. How long have we got?”  
“Not enough time. The only good news I could get is that there aren’t many. They think it will be an easy win, so they’re coming in cold. And quiet. A core group of their undercover operatives.”  
“Numbers, Chris,” Talia demanded.  
“A dozen. But all highly trained and extremely violent. It will be a fight to the death. Do you understand?”  
“I’m sorry,” Stiles whispered.

Derek turned to him, intending to soothe, but to his surprise it was Noah who moved forward and gently lifted his son’s chin.  
“No, Mis- Stiles. You are not to blame for this. I will fight, to the death if necessary, to protect you, but also to protect all Omegas from people like this. None of this is your fault. It is their fault, and their fault alone. You are strong. Stronger than you know, and definitely stronger than _they_ know. Whatever we can do to make this right is worth it, and is not too high a price to pay. I want you to remember that.”  
Stiles pulled forward, throwing himself into his dad’s arms, letting him nuzzle against his neck to scent him. 

“Do we have time to plan?” Talia asked Chris.  
“Minimal. I just wish we could get the pups and Omegas away.”  
“No way, dad! You have trained me my whole damn life to be able to take care of myself, don’t you dare reduce me to my gender right now, when I’m in a position to use those skills.”  
Chris looked with shock at his daughter, until a warm smile fell into place.  
“You’re right, pumpkin. You’re one tough cookie. I have a bow in the car. Find an elevated position inside the house. You know what to do. Can anyone else shoot with any accuracy?”  
Cora raised a hand.  
“Not like Alli can, but I’ve done archery at school, so I know which way is up. If we go to the attic lounge we can see the treeline front and back from the same room, and that way Alli can take the one that needs the highest defense, and their sightline to respond will be highly limited.”  
“You been training your niece, Peter?”  
“She picks most of this up herself,” Peter admitted with a proud pat to Cora’s arm.

Everyone gathered by the trunk of Chris’ SUV, and the girls took bows and full quivers, heading up to stand guard.  
“Michael, take the pups down to the basement. If it becomes necessary, you will need to take them through the tunnels into the preserve. I don’t want to risk that until we have no other choice, as we don’t know what you’ll come up against at the other end.”  
“Yes, Talia. Deaton, you should come too, and you can treat anyone should they become injured. Come and we’ll gather medical supplies.”  
Chris handed Deaton a bag, and the doctor looked inside and nodded, following Michael into the house.

“Mom, will Dad be able to defend them if it becomes necessary?”  
“Your dad has more skills than you know, darling. I promise he had at least three wolfbane infused knives on him the moment he heard someone was threatening our pack. That being said, the safety of those pups are our priority at the moment. Stiles, will you go too?”  
Stiles sent a worried look to Derek, but he raised his chin and nodded.  
“Wait, Stiles. Knife?” Chris asked.  
“I don’t think that’s my strength. Do you have anything with a bit more swing?”  
Chris looked at the various dangerous looking weapons, before reaching down the side and pulling out an old-school wooden baseball bat.  
“Stun them with this, and let Michael finish them,” he said, bluntly, and Stiles nodded grimly.

“What about the rest of us?” Peter asked.  
“Feel like doing a run of the perimeter?”  
“Only if I get to rip into something.”  
“They’ll almost certainly be here for maximum bloodshed. No one should hold back. They’ll have wolfsbane – my father was always a fan of its properties. Can anyone else shoot?”  
Laura’s mate Danny nodded, holding his hand out for a weapon. Chris handed him three and a bag filled with ammo.   
“I suggest you find a high vantage, maybe with the girls if there’s another window up there.”  
“Me too,” Noah said.  
“I want you on the ground. Take up position on the ground floor. You’re the last line of defense for the basement and the stairs, though the rest of us will be aiming to stop that from being an issue.”  
Noah got more weapons, and a similar bag to Danny, heading inside. 

“We don’t know if they’ll come human or wolf. I suspect they’ll vary, and we should too. They won’t be expecting any defense, so our best bet is surprise, and forceful attack. I can’t emphasize that enough.”

There was no more time, as Peter sent up a howl. Derek wished he’d given Stiles one last kiss, one more word of love, but he sent as strong an emotion as he could along their bond instead. He was going to shift, and they’d still have their connection, but he wouldn’t be able to control it so well. He received a blast back that was almost powerful enough to knock him back, and he laughed, the strength of their combined power running through him in a way he’d never felt, and didn’t even know was possible.

Chris took up position, hands filled with heavy black weapons, behind his car, and Derek was going to guess some kind of bullet proofing. Either that or ridiculous optimism, but Chris didn’t seem the optimistic type. Derek shifted as his mom, Scott, and Laura did the same. They had thirteen in the fight, though he was including the three watching over the pups, who he really hoped wouldn’t have to get involved. If Chris was right about a dozen coming he knew they could do this.

Peter came tearing out of the trees, his eyes red and his teeth too, blood dripping from his fangs as he took up position by his sister’s side. The first of the enemy weren’t far behind, sinking out of the darkness of the trees, glowing eyes visible at the same level as Derek, some human eyes higher, flashing with red power. Derek realized with a sinking darkness that there may be only twelve, but they were all Alphas. He counted six and a half – one clearly missing an eye – and heard a shot ring out on the far side, as more presumably appeared there. There was a roar – Danny’s first shot must have hit true. Laura and Peter tore around the side of the house to meet them and Peter sent several yelps back, telling them there were four. Peter and Laura could engage easily, especially with cover provided by Danny and either Cora or Allison.

Derek saw an arrow fly, hitting a tree inches from a wolf. Derek really hoped whoever that was wasn’t going to keep holding back. The threatened Alpha leapt forward with a harsh growl and was felled instantly by a headshot. Chris gave him a nod just as every other enemy raced forward and then they were engaged in violent battle. At one point Derek was dodging a knife held by a tall gray-haired man as a dirty-gray wolf tore its fangs into his hip. He could see Chris was fighting hand-to-hand with a huge black-haired man, while Scott rolled with a sharp-clawed she-wolf. He couldn’t see his mom, but he could hear her growls and the scream as she launched into someone.

He span, clamping onto the spine of his attacker, wrenching his head until he felt it tear, and the wolf collapsed. The man fighting Chris was down, a black-handled knife protruding, but Chris was clutching his arm, blood freely pouring from the wolfsbane-infected slash. Derek counted the fighters and the fallen, someone was missing, even as the older man backed off to the woods, and he heard a gunshot and a roar of pain – a human roar – from inside the house, and then there was a flash, his world going white as an explosion ripped through their home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it 😋 Let me know what you thought in the comments


	6. Open My Heart And Let It Bleed Onto Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Derek tried to concentrate, to feel the bond. It hadn’t ripped. He knew that was a physical pain when it happened. He knew Stiles must have escaped – his dad _must_ have got them down the tunnel. That was the only explanation. But it was too new a thing for him to get more than that, he thought. Maybe he could feel another wash of power, weaker than the last, or maybe that was simply his imagination – wishful thinking. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a 'by the way' - Danny is 'our' Danny, and he's around the same age as Derek here (mid 20s), where Scott and Stiles are around 20 and Alli is 17 to Cora's 16. Just saying, because I've taken liberties

The force of the blast threw Derek back, heat searing. He shook his head, shifting and running to the house.  
“No!” Talia screamed out, but it was Chris who grabbed him, his one good arm wrapped around his middle.  
“Stay back, Derek. You’ll do no one any good getting burned up.”  
Derek shuddered, averting his gaze from the disorienting flames licking through the blown out windows on the lower floor. No one could have survived that, and he could see the damage continuing onto the second floor. Cora, Danny, and Allison appeared – they must have come down the back staircase on the far side – pale and panicked.

“Something held us back,” Danny uttered, pulling Laura to him.  
“Something?” Peter asked, appearing around the side of the house with Marla shaking in his arms.  
“Like a force. We felt the house shake. We heard it, obviously, but when we tried to run to the door none of us could move,” Cora explained. “And then it stopped, and we could get down to the second floor and along to the back stairs, but only just. The flames were right up to the top of the main stairs.”

Derek tried to concentrate, to feel the bond. It hadn’t ripped. He knew that was a physical pain when it happened. He knew Stiles must have escaped – his dad _must_ have got them down the tunnel. That was the only explanation. But it was too new a thing for him to get more than that, he thought. Maybe he could feel another wash of power, weaker than the last, or maybe that was simply his imagination – wishful thinking.   
“Noah,” his mom disrupted his thoughts.   
Of everyone there, assuming the tunnels were being used, Noah Stilinski was the only one fully unaccounted for.

Derek ran then, Chris no longer able to hold him back, wincing in pain as he was. He couldn’t leave his father-in-law in that house, no matter what he might find. The fire was burning lower now, beginning to die down, but it was still hot, incandescent in places where it was getting the most fuel. The furnishings were bright in their destruction, but he pushed past, to the back of the house. Close to the door to the basement he found him. On his back, eyes closed, blood pooling in a wound in his stomach, but unburnt.

Derek reached for him, was shunned, almost as if there were a forcefield around the man. But when he tried again, it was gone, with an almost-whoosh, like air re-taking its place, and now Derek could hear the rasping breaths as he scooped Noah up to get him out of the house, which was creaking ominously. He skipped a fall of timber, almost didn’t see the next, too late to react, but it missed him, barely, splashing to the ground with sparks that somehow ignored his naked legs.

“Lay him here,” Talia instructed and sniffed. “We need Deaton. It’s a gunshot but there’s ‘bane in it.”  
“We have to go to the tunnel entrance,” Peter said. “That explosion wasn’t a happy accident for them. They planned it that way. I think they wanted to make them run. Maybe they were expecting us all to hide down there, and we confused them. But whoever set the explosion didn’t get out of the house – it was a kamikaze mission. And that tells us something else.”  
“Whatever Stiles’ spark is, it’s enough for them to risk this,” Talia said.  
“He can control fire,” Derek suggested, pulling his pants back on. “Noah had some kind of protection against the flames. And the way the others couldn’t move when they were upstairs.”  
“Maybe fire. Or maybe something a little more defensive than that,” Peter said.

“You go, Derek, you know where the tunnels come out. Go fast. If it was planned…” Talia told him.  
“I’m coming too. Some Alpha strength might help,” Peter insisted.   
Laura just pulled her t-shirt on, kissing her mate and squaring her shoulders. Derek was expecting it. Her pups were there. He hoped.

* * * * * 

Stiles stumbled out into the sunshine, painfully bright after the cool dimness of the tunnels, Michael guiding the pups, followed by Deaton with his too-heavy bag. He knew they needed to make their way back to the house, to help whoever was injured, but he had no idea where they were.

“It’s that way,” Michael pointed, but Stiles gasped as he turned.  
 _She_ was there. Watching him from the gloomy glade of trees. There was no way he was going to allow her to hurt his family and he turned, baring his teeth.  
“Sti-les,” she chanted, sing songing his name in the way she always did.  
He didn’t respond. What was there to say? He caught movement to the side. At least two more. And they’d all be Alphas, of course.

“Stay back,” he finally growled, when it seemed clear she wasn’t ready to make a move yet.  
“Or what?” she laughed. “So weak, boy, still,” she taunted.  
Stiles just stared her down, knowing full well how _not_ intimidating he was, but refusing to give her a thing. After all those times…after the nightmares and panic attacks she’d left him with – more than any of the others, because they never made it personal, not like she always did.  
“Come on, baby,” she taunted, “you know you’re coming with me, one way or another. You _belong_ to us.”  
“I do not.” It wasn’t much, but it was all he had; the knowledge that, whatever they’d said to him, whatever they thought, he _did not_ belong to them. He belonged to himself. Derek knew that. Derek supported that, and wanted him with that understanding. He did.

“All those pups, Stiles. It’s a shame they aren’t Omegas, of course. Not much use to us. We’ll have to kill them, obviously.”  
“You won’t touch them.”  
“I’ll touch who I want. You know that, don’t you? Sweet, useless boy.”  
“Not so useless, Kate, am I?” He found strength in the thought. “You want me, after all. You’ve gone to a lot of effort to get me back, after all this time.”  
She hissed, eyes flashing crimson.

Stiles heard the terrifying sound of a weapon cocking.  
“Get back!” he shouted. Turning to Deaton, his whispered, pointlessly, because of course Kate could hear, “Get back in the tunnels. Back to the house. To the others.”  
“We aren’t leaving you Stiles,” Michael whispered, his golden eyes never leaving Kate.  
“You have to. Think of the pups,” he raised his voice. “It’s me they want. I’ll come with you, Kate, but only if you leave them alone.”  
“You’ll come with me anyway,” but she gestured to the one with the gun, and he lowered his weapon. 

Stiles didn’t move until the pups and Michael and Deaton had disappeared, Mal growling the whole way, clearly feeling the weight of his Alpha gender wrapped in a weak eight-year-old body.

He walked to Kate, but not close enough for her to touch him.  
“Come here, Stiles. I’m not stupid. I’m not having you run on me now.”  
“Your father wouldn’t be happy about that, would he?”  
“When did you get so mouthy, eh? No, I’m just pissed that your ego’s getting so big. You’re not important, Stiles. Maybe your blood is, but I’d drain you in an instant. Except I’m sure some of your old ‘friends’ will be more than happy to keep you occupied. We might as well find some use for you there. You owe us for the trouble.”

There was a time, not that long earlier, when the suggestion would have had him trembling, maybe even pleading for leniency. But that had been old Stiles, not the Stiles made stronger by the connection he had with Derek. Not the Stiles who was finding it more possible each day to believe in himself. He could almost _feel_ new Stiles – an electrifying tingling in his fingers, that he reached in front, wondering if he’d see flashes of the power he could sense. It might be the bond with Derek – he was sure that was having an impact, making whatever it was about him that had force come to the fore – but there was no control yet. Whatever, instinct would have to do.

It felt like he was walking in a cloud, a fug. Kate behind him, huffing in annoyance at the uneven ground. Not that it caused her any issue, just that she _enjoyed_ being angry.   
“Stop,” she barked, and he paused, looking back at her. “Devile?”  
“Yes, Miss?”  
“Where’s Conway?”  
“Oh! I don’t know. He was here, just a minute ago.” The poor dumb idiot sounded terribly confused, and Stiles held down a snigger, not wanting to draw attention when he was trying to concentrate, to shift the miasma that was preventing focus.

He could feel the bond with Derek getting stronger. Sending waves of something that felt a lot like energy, that fulfilled him, but somehow wasn’t allowing him to shake this feeling of _distance_ , of disconnect. 

They walked on a moment, until Kate grasped his shoulder, sharp fingers pressing in hard. He looked as she did, realizing that Devile was no longer by them. She shook her head, muttering nonsense. It almost sounded as though she’d instantly forgotten they’d just had two men with them, who had vanished, as she pushed him on.

* * * * * 

Chris’ injury was easy to deal with. Fortunately for him, his father hadn’t taken to varying the wolfsbane he coated his men’s knives with, so Deaton was able to pass him an infused cloth to clean his wound with as soon as he returned, and Chris’ bicep was beginning to knit cleanly back together within minutes, finally giving him feeling back in his arm.

“My father was here?” he told Talia as they watched Deaton use vials of Noah’s blood to work out what ‘bane the bullet that hit him had been coated with.   
“Wouldn’t have assumed it was a question,” she responded with a raise of the eyebrow, almost as expressive as Derek’s, if tidier.  
“I don’t know if he even knew I was here.”  
“Does that bother you?”  
“No. He would have found some way to belittle me, even in the midst of fighting with Derek. And if he finds out I’m here, he knows Alli is too.”  
“He was one of the first to disappear back to the woods.”  
“I would assume he saw their martyr enter the house.”  
“Yes.”  
“But…what if he did see me? What happens if he _does_ work out Alli’s here? What if he comes back for her?”  
“It feels like you’re asking for my permission.”

Chris looked down at Noah’s quiet body, holding on despite the necessary delay.   
“The sheriff likes to do things properly.”  
“Really? You _were_ here today, weren’t you? Noah was as out for blood as the rest of us. Why do you think he kept his own deputies out of it when they could have helped us when we really needed it?”  
“But that was defense. If I go now…”  
“It may be trite, but sometimes the best form of defense is attack. I would do the same to protect my own children.”

Chris had to take that. He looked over at Alli, white-faced as she spoke quietly with Cora and Scott whilst absent-mindedly checking the string of her bow. He would do _anything_ to keep her safe. There was a time when he thought what he’d done in escaping had been the most dramatic thing he’d ever need to do, but whether it had been or not, whether he should have taken it further way back then, whether he should have been less _blind_ to what his father was truly capable of, he’d do it now.

“Scott.”  
The boy looked up, a grim line to his mouth.  
“Chris.”  
“There’s a chance I could use the assistance of Alpha strength for this.”  
He didn’t quite know why he was asking the boy for help. He didn’t really think he needed it and, if anything, he thought Scott might be inclined to hold things back. Perhaps he needed that, or maybe he was thinking Scott deserved to prove himself as capable of being a good Alpha to Alli. There was a chance Chris wanted the boy to know just how dangerous Chris was capable of being when his family was in peril, though he wouldn’t focus on that, or reveal it to Scott.

They jogged the narrow path, following the raised Alpha odor.  
“What do you plan to do?”  
“Whatever’s necessary to make sure we’re all safe,” Chris responded bluntly, waiting to see if Scott would demur, but he just shrugged. “Be ready to defend yourself if necessary.”  
Chris thought that this might be a bad idea after all. Alli would be _pissed_ if he got her mate killed. 

There wasn’t time to do anything though, as they finally arrived in a preserve parking lot, battered picnic tables by the edges, and his father standing next to a black SUV, looking right at them.  
“Christopher. Nice of you to join things.”  
“Just making sure you leave, Gerard,” he responded disingenuously.  
“And you brought a pup with you. How nice. I can always use more men.”  
“Presumably because you keep getting the ones you have killed.”  
“They know they’re here for a good time, not a long time. And I make sure they have plenty of good times. Ask your little Omega slut.”  
Scott growled but Chris ignored it, stepping closer to his father.

“It’s a shame you won’t come back, Christopher. They really don’t make them like you anymore. Weak, far too often. I feel like I’m constantly training. You could help. I hear on the grapevine you’re quite the expert. And that Omega whelp of yours.”  
“Don’t you even _think_ of her.”  
“She could do wonders in our program. Victoria thinks so, too.”  
“She can’t possibly be so cruel.”  
“She just follows the true path, son.”  
“Don’t call me that.”

“Of course,” Gerard tilted his head, gazing appraisingly at Chris, “I shouldn’t be surprised that you betrayed me. Your stock could certainly have been better.”  
“What are you talking about?”  
“Come on, Christopher, I didn’t breed you to be this stupid. You have to have wondered how you and Victoria produced an Omega.”  
“It happens.” Chris has no idea what game his father is playing; knows he can’t allow himself to engage, as there’s always an end game with Gerard.  
“Rarely. And only if there’s a direct line from an Omega. The Omega gene is the only one that can produce new Omegas. It’s why they’re so rare.”  
“So? What is your point Father? You hate Omegas. Think they’re an abomination. As you’ve proven time and again.”  
“I wanted Alphas. To carry on my family name. The business. Our status. And that’s the funny thing. Omegas are the only designation that don’t produce Betas. An Alpha with a Beta might produce an Alpha. 1 in 4 chance. But with an Omega it’s 3 in 4. Theoretically, anyway. Of course, the risk is that 1 in 4 chance of an Omega, but I was willing to take it.”  
“Are you saying my mother is an Omega?”  
Gerard snorted. A laugh, perhaps, but filled with derision.  
“Was.”  
“What did you do to her, you bastard?”  
“What a strange question, son. I didn’t _do_ anything. I sold it, of course. It managed to spit out you and your sister, but was clearly defective. I had no further use for it. And then when you only managed a single Omega pup with Victoria I could see those defective genes were hereditary.”

Chris couldn’t respond. If his father wanted him blind-sided he’d achieved it. But Gerard hadn’t finished.  
“Of course, I forbade Kate from breeding. She ran too high a risk. And when we got the boy, well, she has certain _preferences_ and she liked it. So I told her she could have it, but only after we’d tested its breeding ability. And when we had, we saw the odds were in our favor. But, of course, then that one turned out to be defective as well. It was no use to Kate in its wolf form.”

Chris didn’t want to process the awful things that had happened to Stiles at the hands of his father and sister. There was too much to deal with, and it was going to have to be addressed, but right now something else jarred.  
“Wait, Omegas hardly ever only have one pup. Are you telling me Kate and I were both single Alphas?”  
“I didn’t say that, did I?” Gerard smirked.   
Chris clenched his fist.  
“So what, then?”  
“You’ll remember from your very expensive private education the history of the great drought in ‘thirty-nine? When working dogs in the Midwest had too many pups, they’d drown the runts. What’s an Omega if not a runt?”  
“You killed them? The pups?”  
“What did I say? Defective.”

Chris’ entire vision blurred, red bleeding, a mist falling. His father had never been a nice man. Never a good father. Rough and cold, and trying to train his Alpha children as if they were soldiers. Chris still hated how easily Gerard had got to Kate, molded her to be like him, still breathed a sigh of relief that he’d kept enough of himself to escape when it really counted, even if he hadn’t known until today just how much it had counted. But the idea he’d murdered his own children, because they were Omegas…

Chris roared, launching himself at Gerard, barely registering Scott’s attempt to stop him. The old man was strong, still able to use his Alpha strength, still well trained. But maybe years of always having things his own way had made him softer than he realized, because he was thrown back by the force of Chris’ attack, hitting the car hard, dazed by the blow to the back of his head. Chris allowed him no purchase, slamming him to the ground, curling his knuckles and hitting, over and over again, never allowing the old man even a moment to catch a breath, or a break. Knowing that he couldn’t show even an ounce of softness because it would be taken advantage of, highlighted as the mistake it was, as had always happened when he was young. 

When he finally paused, momentarily exhausted, he felt a hand at his shoulder, managed not to flinch, just.  
“I think he’s subdued,” Scott said with a weak smile.  
“It isn’t enough. You know that.”  
“But-,”  
“He’ll come back for Stiles, Scott. Do you understand? And, now he knows we’re here, he’ll come for Alli. Is that what you want?”

Chris could feel remorseful for goading Scott that way, especially when Scott’s eyes flashed red, and his fist clenched, and Chris knew that if the boy had a knife he’d be using it without a second thought, but he wouldn’t allow himself to feel guilty. If he was going to be Alli’s Alpha, he needed to be stronger in every way. He needed to be ready and willing to do the worst things if it would protect his loved ones. 

For now, though, it was Chris who had the means, and he pulled out his wolfsbane infused knife, and he made the slash deep and true, without a single hesitation mark, and he stood, and looked down at the pulpy, blooded mess that, at one point, had claimed to be his father, and he walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One down...
> 
> Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about Stiles' precarious position.
> 
> Would love to hear your thoughts 😘


	7. There’s A Curse That Comes With A Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“We don’t buy from panhandlers, go away,” the shrill Alpha appeared next to the housekeeper, looking down her nose at them._   
>  _“I assure you, madam, we are not panhandlers.” Peter might have spent the day in a tree, but he was still Peter Hale, and exuded confidence and charisma regardless of his windswept hair. “We are here to take back the pup you stole.”_

“What’s happening?” Derek panted, as he wiped blood from his cheek.  
“They can’t see us, I think,” Laura suggested.  
“Why not?”  
“I think it’s Stiles’ spark. I think it’s a protective thing,” Peter said.  
“But,” and Derek whispered it, as if thinking Stiles would suddenly hear everything, “he wasn’t able to protect his pups.”  
“No,” Peter mused, as they walked quickly, keeping up with the woman and Stiles, “I don’t know what Deaton thinks of it, but I suspect he wasn’t strong enough for it to manifest until he met you. And I think it’s getting stronger by the minute.”

They kept moving, but every time Derek tried to move closer to Stiles, who he could see easily through the trees, being pushed along by the woman’s hand on his shoulder, there was something stopping him, a force pushing back. They’d only got the two Alpha’s because they’d spread out from the other two, though it had been easy, because they’d not known until they were practically in Derek’s arms, him holding them while Laura dispatched the first and Peter the second a few minutes later. 

Laura was more relaxed now, and Derek knew she could feel the bond with her pups, now they were safe and, presumably, with their dad and the others. But a supposedly relaxed Laura was a dangerous Laura, particularly against anyone who had threatened her family, and she was moving with rangy grace, staying the perfect distance from the pair, ready to seek her revenge as soon as Stiles removed the shield. 

They finally broke free of the trees, and Derek saw the Alpha react with a scream when she saw a body on the ground, by the big SUV. Derek couldn’t tell who it had been, not that he knew any of the enemy, but even if he had known them, that one was unrecognizable now, a battered, bloody mess. She dragged Stiles over to it, her eyes bleeding red as she roared, slamming him into the side of the car. He put his arms up as Derek tried to run, offering his own roar of frustration when he couldn’t get closer. 

She turned away from the body, tears in her eyes. Derek couldn’t hear what she was screaming at Stiles, it felt as though there was water in his ears. He could see Stiles trembling, fearfully staring up at the towering, furious Alpha, but then he straightened, was shouting back, and Derek felt that rush of power again, but it was curtailed when she raised her hand, striking Stiles across the face, slamming his head against the car hard enough to daze him. 

Sound came back in a rush, he could hear her raging accusations, even hear Stiles’ rabbity heartbeat.  
“The shield is down,” Peter said, racing forward.  
She heard him, turning to face them, pushing Stiles into the car and slamming the door, raising her gun.  
“Don’t come closer,” she yelled.  
“You can’t shoot us all,” Laura screamed back, but the woman smiled, a nasty, cold grin, and turned the gun toward the car.  
“Perhaps, but you’re here for the little slut, aren’t you? And I can shoot him.”

No one said anything. She was right. And Derek wouldn’t risk it, not knowing how far Stiles’ healing might have come. She travelled around the car, sliding into the front seat.  
“No,” Derek gasped, “I can’t Peter, I can’t lose him.”  
The Alpha looked at his nephew with love, putting a hand on his shoulder.  
“She won’t shoot him, he’s too important to them. Just get him out.”

It happened so fast. Peter disappeared, reappearing seconds later from the trees in front of the car as it rolled forward, shifting into his huge gray wolf as he launched himself at the windshield. The woman yelled, firing off a bullet, but her angle was off as her arm twisted out of the window, Derek and Laura sprinted forward, yanking the passenger door, grabbing Stiles bodily as she turned, as if in slow motion, her eyes crimson. As she looked at them, she kept firing forward, random shots, until there was a high yelp and Peter was flung back, red staining his pale belly fur. She turned back to them, turning her gun, but Laura lifted hers and held it steady, danger in her eyes, and she twisted the wheel, flying off in a cloud of angry curses.

Stiles was sitting up as Laura ran to Peter, who had shifted and was wincing at the bullet wound in his torso.  
“Why didn’t you shoot her?”  
“The angle was wrong. It could have easily ricocheted. Not worth the risk once we had you.”  
“She didn’t know that. She ran.”  
“She was too angry to think straight. Whoever that was obviously meant something to her.” She gestured to the mangled corpse before tearing her tank off at the middle and pressing the fabric to Peter’s wound.  
“It was Gerard Argent,” Stiles told them.  
“That was Kate Argent?” Derek asked and Stiles nodded.  
“It’s good to know she’s so quick to anger,” Peter wheezed. “Will be useful information when we go after them.”

* * * * * 

They were in Laura and Danny’s house, Noah healing rapidly laying on a couch, Peter taking up another, tip tapping on his laptop. Luckily for him, a quick experiment had shown Deaton the same strain of wolfsbane had been used in both bullets, so he’d got his cure a lot faster than Noah.  
“You need to practice your spark, Stiles,” Deaton said over the sound of the pups racing around the family room.  
“Can’t we give him five minutes to just recover. Can you give us all five minutes?” Michael asked. “We just burned ten bodies.”  
“Yes. But we need to know where his power lays.”  
“We might need it,” Peter announced.

Talia approached her brother, leaning over the back of the couch and passing him a tea.  
“What have you found?”  
“I know where the Facility is. Chris was right, it isn’t the same building he knew. They’re paranoid, though with good reason, and it looks like they’ve moved a few times, but it is the same building Stiles knew four years ago. Once I had a name it was easy enough to find. Gerard was nowhere near as clever as he liked to think himself.”

“What are we doing with his body?” Scott asked, his arm around Allison.  
“He needs to be found. Peter’s research suggests that the authorities won’t simply ignore his disappearance like they are likely to with his henchmen. Most of them seem to be criminals, anyway. But he has Government contacts,” Noah explained, wincing as he sat up to accept his drink from Talia. 

“And you expect Stiles to go to the Facility? Why?” Derek asked, pulling his mate close, Marla pressing into Stiles on the other side.  
“He’s the only one who’s been there, Derek,” Peter explained apologetically.  
“I can get more men, can’t I?” Noah asked. “Surely we can do this part officially? Get search warrants?”  
“On what basis, Noah?”  
“Stiles could come forward.”  
“No. I won’t. If you go in officially, they’ll have warning. If they have warning they’ll just dispose of the Omegas.”  
“I’m sorry, Noah,” Peter said, “but I think he’s right. If we want to save the people held there, I think we need to do it this way. Though we’ll understand if you sit this one out. It’s even more difficult to justify lawfully than the defense on the house.”  
“I won’t be doing that,” Noah responded sternly, returning his gaze to his tea.

“What do we know?” Talia asked Peter.  
“Official employees twenty-four. So, it’s likely we just removed ten. But, of course, we have no way of knowing if they have pack not on the employment records. It does include both Kate Argent and Victoria Argent, though.”  
“What? How do you get information like that?” Chris asked, paling at the news.  
Danny raised a hand from where he sat at the kitchen table, with a sheepish smile.

“What do their official records suggest they do?” Derek asked.  
“They have two registered businesses, one being a laboratory, and the other being an Omega rescue center.” Danny sounded even more sheepish at that, but Stiles didn’t respond. “It was a bit harder to get into the records for the Omega center, and it looks like they only record the children, and claim that they’re aged out once they reach sixteen, but I can’t find any record of the Government Welfare reviews anyway, so who knows, but they definitely cash the checks the Government send. There’s a lot of money in it, it would seem.”  
“So, we’re going up against possibly fourteen Alphas, and potentially more, to rescue an unknown number of Omegas of all ages. Against a laboratory that is certainly highly armed, and possibly developing weapons that we don’t even know about yet,” Chris summarized.  
“Well, they only had twelve Alpha employees, officially. So Kate and Victoria Argent may be the only ones left. The rest are Betas,” Peter said, and Stiles sat up, looking a little more confident. 

“Okay, so how do we do this?”  
“Not yet,” Peter responded, ignoring Stiles’ little growl. “There’s something else. Danny?”  
Danny made a face, but turned to Stiles. “I found your Alpha pups.”  
“What?” Derek and Stiles said at the same time.  
“Three of them, two adopted to one Alpha couple, and one to a United States Senator, but not one of the good ones.”  
“So we get them back,” Derek said.  
“Yes,” Peter said. “Fortunately, the single pup is in Los Angeles, so it looks like we’re going on a road trip.”

* * * * * 

Derek didn’t like not being the one driving, but Chris had insisted, and he didn’t hate the fact that he could sit in the back with Stiles curled up against him, nose pressed into his mating gland as he slept. Peter and Chris talked tactics in the front, but he chose not to listen, focusing instead on Stiles heartbeat, which wasn’t steady even in sleep, and breathing in the scent of his mate.

He knew the plan, anyway. Danny had found the address, and all of the paperwork, and, before they left, Peter had set his most ruthless assistant, Ms Martin, to establishing that the papers had been falsified. If it became necessary, a blood test would then be a simple way to establish Stiles as the Omega parent and, with the papers proved false, Peter would be happy in any court in the land in securing Stiles sole custody even if it transpired the Senator or her husband were the other parent (and Derek didn’t think they’d be alive to make their case if they claimed that in front of either himself or the two Alphas in the front).

They’d arrive before dawn, and Derek settled his head against the window and closed his eyes, falling asleep to Stiles’ steady breaths and warm presence, one of Derek’s hands reaching to settle in Marla’s thick fur on his other side.

The sun was only just rising when they positioned themselves in a tree in the neighboring property. Marla was in the car, the window fully down, though Derek was reasonably sure she wouldn’t try to follow them. Reasonably.

‘Wolves didn’t like climbing trees, at all, but it was their best vantage point. Danny had checked out the surrounding properties, each set on multiple acres of land, and discovered this family were on extended vacation, and had also established that their security cameras had no vantage point on the far south of the property. Derek was beginning to get a bit freaked out by the skills previously unassuming Danny was showing, and vowed to never get on his wrong side, because he was pretty certain Danny could make him vanish easier than breathing. 

Fortuitously, they were downwind of the house they were watching, and far enough away that they could speak quietly without being heard.  
“Housekeeper,” Peter whispered as the wide patio door was slid open, revealing a young Hispanic woman in a gray and white uniform. She walked over to a large upright bin with a dustpan and tipped the rubbish away. A small boy came running out of the doors, heading straight for her, and she scooped him up in her arms, tickling him.  
“Marianne,” he giggled shrilly, wriggling free.  
“Ssh, little one. Don’t wake your mother. How about I make you pancakes before your big brother and sister get up?”  
He jumped in excitement and followed her inside.

Derek turned to Stiles, who was white and trembling.  
“That’s him. That’s Jack.”  
“You named him?”  
“I named all of them, though I never told anyone. I wanted them to have simple names,” he caught his breath, choking down a sob. “He has my skin. The other two Alphas were a bit darker.”  
“What do we do, Peter?”  
“Keep watching.”

They stayed in the tree. After breakfast, he came running out, shrieking in panic, and Derek had to hold Stiles to prevent him from launching into the adjacent garden.  
“No, no, Patricia, please, leave me alone.”  
“You took my book, you little brat!” A little girl of about eight or nine followed him, her face red with fury.  
“I’ll give it back, I’m sorry. I only borrowed it. Mummy will only let me have school books, I just wanted to read something fun.”  
“Don’t call her that, you little shit. She isn’t your mother, she’s my mother. You’d better give it back or I’ll eat you! I don’t care if I’m only a useless Beta.”  
“Please don’t eat me!” little Jack wailed as he ran back in the house.

There were noises of shouting and tears coming from the house and Stiles was tense, quivering in the agony of needing to do something. Peter put a calming hand on his knee.  
“We’re going to get him, Stiles, we just need to know what we’re up against.”

Jack appeared at the door again a few minutes later, running into the garden.  
“Get out there! Do something useful for once, do your exercises. You’re no use to anyone as an Alpha if you aren’t big and strong.” The woman was tall and imposing, wearing a business suit and with perfectly coiffed hair. “You’d better do them properly, or it will be the wooden spoon.”  
“No mummy, please. I’ll do them properly I promise.”  
“I could do exercises, mummy. I’ll be good at them,” the girl said, appearing by her side.  
“No you couldn’t. You’re only a Beta. And stop calling me mummy, for crying out loud, you’re nine years old. Go and watch cartoons, or something.”

The little boy started running lengths of the garden, up and down like it was a track, dropping to do sit ups and press ups intermittently.  
“She’s training him like a soldier,” Derek whispered.  
“She’s training him to be a ‘good’ Alpha,” Chris sneered as they watched the tiny child jump up onto the monkey bars, swinging across them and doing burpees at the other side.  
Derek wondered if Chris’ childhood had been something like this, and then figured it was probably even worse.

At lunchtime, the housekeeper set up lunch on the patio and the three children came out. The boy was about fourteen and clearly a Beta; tall but slim, and he was kinder to the little Alpha than his sister. When she stole some of Jack’s lunch he told her off and gave it back to him.  
“Don’t be mean, Trish, you know he’s got that awful tutor this afternoon, at least let him have lunch.”  
She hung her head, looking ashamed, and Derek found his heart matching Stiles’ in concerned pitter-patter. 

The tutor was even more awful than the boy had suggested, a big, angry Alpha who apparently ‘taught’ through screaming information at the terrified pup. Jack was wearing shorts now, and the tutor made him kneel on the hard graveled ground next to the patio and recite poetry that he had apparently been meant to learn by heart. When he made a mistake the man screamed even louder and made him start again at the beginning. It took Derek _and_ Peter to hold Stiles in the tree. 

When dusk arrived Derek turned to Peter.  
“What now?”  
“Now we go get our pup back.”

Derek wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but walking up to the door and ringing the bell wasn’t it.

His arm was around Stiles as the housekeeper opened the door.  
“Hello?”  
“We don’t buy from panhandlers, go away,” the shrill Alpha appeared next to the housekeeper, looking down her nose at them.  
“I assure you, madam, we are not panhandlers.” Peter might have spent the day in a tree, but he was still Peter Hale, and exuded confidence and charisma regardless of his windswept hair. “We are here to take back the pup you stole.”

They entered the house without further ado, the woman having no chance to stop them. A man was in the living room, his arms around all three of the children as he looked up in shock.  
“What’s going on, Elise?”  
She spluttered, her face red.  
“I was just telling your charming wife that we are here to take back the pup you stole.”  
“Stole? What are you talking about?”  
“Daddy?” Jack said. “Why does that man smell so nice?”  
“What man, Barty?”  
Barty? The boy just looked at them with wide eyes.

“Please, would someone explain what is happening?”  
“Do I need to call the police, Mister Green?” the housekeeper asked.  
“There’s no need to call the police my good lady, I’m sure the Green’s will want to resolve this without their input. Four years ago, Mr. Green, you adopted that boy,” Peter pointed to Jack, “from an Omega center.”  
“Well,” he looked sheepish, “my wife did. I was in Europe on business.”  
“Oh, Mrs. Green? And what did they tell you about his provenance?”  
She was spluttering even more then, apparently unable to form words.  
“You knew some months earlier, didn’t you? That you were getting a pup. Because you paid for an Omega to be bred to produce an Alpha for your little empire, _didn’t you_?”  
“What? You told me his mother was a crack whore who’d died in childbirth. Hang on. You _told_ me you’d written off the Rolls and had to buy a new one. Are you telling me you _bought_ Barty that way?”

The woman slumped onto a chair, guiltily looking at her knees.  
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he growled.  
“You don’t understand, James, all I wanted was an Alpha, and _you _kept producing useless Betas. My mother was right, I should never have married a Beta.”  
“Get out!” he roared. “Get out, and if you come back here I’ll make sure _everyone_ in your precious social circle knows what you did.”__

__

__Everyone waited awkwardly while the housekeeper helped Mrs. Green pack a bag and take it to her car and when she’d gone, Mr. Green turned to Stiles.  
“It’s you, isn’t it? You smell like him, and you’re an Omega, aren’t you?”  
“Yes.”  
“Christ. I’m- I’m sorry. Sorry that she did that. Sorry that I didn’t ask more questions. Do something.”  
“Um, well, it wasn’t your fault.”  
“It was though. We’ve been mated fifteen years, and I always let her have her own way. She always insisted it was her right as an Alpha, and I just allowed it. She’s done plenty, but this is definitely the worst thing. I hope.”  
“We, uh, we watched, before we came here. She wasn’t a good mother to any of your children. I hope you’ll remember that if she wants to come back.”  
“I’ll be going to the doctor tomorrow to break the bond. The good thing is, she always made me work hard, to keep her in the way she wanted, so I have a successful business. I can look after these two.”  
“You aren’t going to fight us?” Peter asked.  
“I’m sorry, Barty,” he turned to the pup instead of answering. “I wasn’t a very good daddy to you, was I?”  
“It’s okay, Daddy,” the pup put his little hand on Mr. Green’s face, “I know Mummy made sure you weren’t here much. She always said you were too soft on us and would ruin us, whatever that is. I know she made it hard to love me.”  
“Goddess,” Mr. Green let out a sob and hugged Barty to him, “no, it wasn’t hard to love you, sweet boy, but it might have been hard to bond with you. I think you’ll find it much easier to bond with him.” He pointed to Stiles and the pup looked. “I’ll let you into a secret, Barty, I’ve been looking after you until he could get to you, but that’s your real daddy, and he’s come to get you so he can look after you.”  
“Really?” The pup’s small face lit up as he looked at Stiles’ tear-tracked face.  
“Really,” Stiles said, crouching and holding his arms out. The pup ran to him, throwing himself into Stiles’ arms and pressing his nose against his scent gland.  
“You smell like me, I like it.”  
Stiles sobbed as he clutched his boy to him._ _

__

__The housekeeper packed the pup’s things while Peter showed Mr. Green the evidence so he could feel confident not only in letting the boy go, but at permanently letting his wife go, too. And then they were at the car, and the pup’s eyes went very big at Marla, resting her head on the open window.  
“We have a doggy?”  
“Well, she’s a wolf, but yes.”  
“Will she look after me?”  
“She looks after all of us, baby.”_ _

__

__On the drive back, Peter was at the wheel this time, as Derek rested his head again, Stiles leaning against him, now with a sweet pup against _him_.  
“Daddy?” the boy tried it out.  
“Yes baby?”  
“Is he my daddy too?”  
Stiles looked back at Derek who smiled and squeezed him.  
“He can be your Papa?”  
“I’d like that. And, Daddy? You know my name’s Bartholomew?”  
“Wow, that’s a mouthful.”  
“I don’t like it much. If I have a new Daddy, and a Papa, maybe I can have a new name?”  
“Did you have something in mind?”  
“I like Jack.”  
Everyone chuckled.  
“Jack sounds good,” Stiles agreed, hugging him close while Marla dropped her head onto his lap._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sweet, I think I have a cavity, but, crumbs, it felt good to do that for Stiles.
> 
> Let me know what you think.


	8. Shines When The Sunshine Shifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _When they got to Laura’s, of course there was a period of wild excitement. Stiles had been expecting it and refused to become tense. His ( _his_ , like, really, the thought hadn’t entirely settled) pup was an absolute rock and roll star, grinning merrily at Talia and Michael, announcing that they smelled nice, like his papa, which had Michael’s eyes brimming happily. He took no prompting to approach Noah and tell _him_ he smelled like his daddy and did that mean they were family now, and then Noah was threatening tears too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's angst tiiiiime

Little Jack was happily chewing Twizzlers as they pulled onto the main road to the preserve.  
“You nervous, Sweetie?” Stiles asked, leaning close to his pup so he could blast calming Omega pheromones.  
“No, Daddy,” Jack responded brightly. “You said they’re my family. I think they might be better than the last one, if they’re as nice as you.”  
“Were they very mean?”  
“Mummy was never nice to any of us. She was really grumpy. And she made me see that horrible teacher. I don’t miss her. But old-Daddy was nice to us, every time he came home. He brought me presents, though Mummy would take them away almost always. She used to say only edumacational toys were for good Alphas. Philip and Patricia were usually at school because she sent them away. I’ll miss Marianne though. She made yummy pancakes.”  
“I bet your Papa would make you pancakes if you asked him very nicely.”  
“Would you, Papa?” Jack turned to Derek with an adorably hopeful gaze.  
“Of course, darling boy. Maybe your Auntie Laura even has syrup for them.”  
“Yum!”

When they got to Laura’s, of course there was a period of wild excitement. Stiles had been expecting it and refused to become tense. His ( _his_ , like, really, the thought hadn’t entirely settled) pup was an absolute rock and roll star, grinning merrily at Talia and Michael, announcing that they smelled nice, like his papa, which had Michael’s eyes brimming happily. He took no prompting to approach Noah and tell _him_ he smelled like his daddy and did that mean they were family now, and then Noah was threatening tears too.

Derek made pancakes for everyone, and Laura did, indeed, have syrup for them, which Jack positively drowned his in. And then he was off, happy to play with his new uncle and cousins in the family room, especially as Laura’s middle daughter was almost the same age as him, with Michael and Noah vying for grandfatherly duties watching over them.

“Is it strange that he’s settled in so easily? Shouldn’t he be more upset at leaving everything he’s ever known?” Stiles asked Derek.  
“I think we should be careful with him. Pups are resilient – and that is definitely something he’s got from you, I’m certain – and it doesn’t seem like there was a huge amount for him to give up, but we will need pay attention. There might be something that triggers him.”  
“We can do that,” Stiles agreed, though it felt like it had been too easy to integrate Jack into their family.

“What’s the next stage?” Stiles asked Peter, eager to be moving on to saving his other two Alpha pups, now he knew what the feeling was like.   
“The other two might be more complicated.”  
“Why? Are they being held somewhere? We can get them, can’t we?”  
Derek soothed Stiles’ panic-rising scent.  
“Danny?”  
Danny huffed at being thrown under the bus again, but gestured at his wonder-computer.  
“Your other pups were easy to find. They’re…they’re actually here, in Beacon Hills.”  
“What? Why didn’t we get them first?” Stiles clutched Derek’s hand tightly enough to cut circulation.

“Jack needed to be saved,” Danny admitted, “but, well, the paperwork I found suggests that these two were adopted marginally more legitimately, as in, the Alphas involved had no idea there was anything untoward; they thought they were adopting from a real Omega Rescue, and that the Alpha pups were there from a rescued Omega who was voluntarily giving them up.”  
“But, I thought they were all about money in the adoptions? And a lot could be made from adoptions-to-order,” Chris asked as Derek and Stiles winced in unison.  
“They are,” Peter clarified, “but you might be surprised at how expensive even a real adoption is, especially of Alpha pups. The fact is, Danny discovered that the Alpha pair are extremely wealthy, more so even than the Hales, but there is no indication that they had any untoward motivations.”  
“So why’d they want Alphas so badly?” Stiles asked tearfully.  
“It’s my opinion that the deal the Facility struck was for a single Alpha, and they simply saw the chance to make more money when you had three. It’s extremely difficult and time consuming for Alpha male pairs, in particular, to adopt from the state-run system. For reasons that do none of us any favors, prejudices about Alphas not making especially good parents persist within the bureaucracy, and, of course, A-A males are unable to bear children of their own, so are limited. And so they tried the private system, and paid a great deal for the privilege. And, what I’m saying is, there’s no suggestion that they were especially bothered by having Alphas – that is simply what they were offered.”

Derek was gently running his thumb over Stiles’ palm, calming him, but his scent suddenly rose and he tensed.  
“Wait a second. A family richer than ours? There’s only one family in Beacon Hills. The Whittemores.”

* * * * * 

“I don’t want to do this.”  
“Yes, you do, baby.”  
Stiles and Derek were in the sheriff’s office, waiting for Jackson and Ethan Whittemore to arrive.  
“I do. But why does it have to be this way? Why can’t they just be greedy law-breaking bastards like the woman who took Jack? Danny showed me _pictures_ for Goddess’ sake. They look happy.”

He slumped his head against Derek’s chest, clenching his fists, trying to break out of the guilt he was already feeling. He heard them arriving, it had to be them, because they were greeting his father, asking why he’d asked them to come in. The office was already crowded before they entered, chairs having been brought in, Peter sitting to the side with Talia, theoretically independent observers, but obviously not at all. 

“Please, gentlemen, sit down. Coffee?”  
“Uh, no thank you, listen, Sheriff, can you explain what’s happening? Oh, hello Alpha,” The first tall, broad, blond greeted Talia with a weak smile.  
“Jackson,” is all she responded with. Well, she could hardly say it was nice to see him under the circumstances.  
“Derek,” the other one said and Derek couldn’t meet his eyes as he said, “Hi Ethan.”

“You know them?” was all Stiles could think of saying, and everyone jumped at the dread in his voice and his sour scent of distress.  
“We went to school together, baby. It was a long time ago.”  
“Wow, you’re mated Derek? Congratulations,” Ethan said.  
“Sheriff, I think we ought to move away from small talk, don’t you?” Peter suggested.

“Please, Jackson, Ethan, sit down.”  
“I’ll be honest, Sheriff, you’re really starting to freak us out. What is this about?”  
“Your pups,” Stiles blurted.  
“What? What do you mean?” Jackson asked, sitting up.

“Goddess, this is a mess,” Peter rolled his shoulders and stood, moving to stand in front of Noah’s desk. “I’m afraid there were some irregularities in the adoption process.”  
“No there weren’t,” Jackson’s voice was raising. “Our lawyers checked everything. You’re not- you can’t-,”  
“Everything probably seemed legitimate. What did the center say about where your pups had come from?”  
Ethan soothed his husband whose eyes were flashing, “An unmated Omega gave them up. She didn’t want anything to do with them. Closed adoption. All the records we have contain the details, if you want to see them.”  
“We’ve seen the records. They have good forgeries, but not good enough.”  
“What are you talking about?”  
“There was no unmated Omega. Or, even, no one who voluntarily gave them up. They falsified the records. They were holding an Omega against his will, and they stole his Alpha pups from him, and gave them to you, for what I’m sure was a hefty adoption fee, but nothing about it was legal.”  
“No! You can’t say that. You can’t! Everything was checked.” Jackson was standing, his eyes wild, tears falling freely. “I’m not listening to you making up lies about my children.”

He turned and ran from the room.   
Ethan stood. “They’re your pups, aren’t they?” he asked Stiles, his own eyes welling.  
Stiles couldn’t say anything, just nodded, looking down where his hands were joined with Derek’s.  
“I’m sorry. I don’t- I guess you have to do something. I’ll, uh, I’ll contact our lawyer, I suppose. I’m sorry.”

He left the office, everyone remaining sitting in quiet shock for a moment.

“Well, that could have gone worse,” Peter suggested.  
“I’m not sure how,” Derek muttered.  
“They didn’t attack us.”

* * * * * 

Stiles was dazed for the rest of the day, barely managing anything other than smiles for his son.

“Will you come upstairs for snuggles?” Derek asked. “Bring Jack.”  
“He’s way too full of energy for that,” Stiles said weakly. “I hate them, you know?”  
“The Whittemores?”  
“No. The Facility. I thought the worst they’d done was to me, but it’s like they couldn’t help themselves from dragging more innocent people into the horror they created. And does this make me as bad as them, wanting to tear _their_ children away from them?”  
“Of course it doesn’t. Nothing about the situations is the same.”  
“Except I want to take their children. And I do, Derek. I feel as though my heart might collapse if I knowingly leave them out there, no matter how good they are as fathers.”

Deaton, with his unwitting but consistent way of being utterly oblivious to the mood in the room, had arrived and requested Stiles practice his spark.  
“I’ve been considering the incidences, and doing some extra research, and I believe your spark is protective in nature.”  
“I could have told you that, Deaton,” Peter huffed.  
“Well, yes, but it’s a specific protection that seems to operate as a forcefield, and protects his pack, seemingly from quite long distances. And it’s powerful. The very first time it manifested he protected four separated individuals from an explosion. And that was without trying. And then the protection constructed for you, in the woods, was in place for quite some time. The biggest issue, so far, other than the fact that he has no control over when it happens, is that he doesn’t seem to have the same innate desire to protect himself.”

Deaton made him practice for hours and, even though he had _not_ been in the mood to start with, the forced focus felt beneficial after a while, when he had no room in his head for any of the bad thoughts. Even though Peter waving his claws at Derek wasn’t a credible threat, by the end of the session, Stiles could put an intentional forcefield around both Derek and Jack, and take it down at will.

Still, he huffed in frustration that he couldn’t do anything else.  
“You ask too much of yourself,” Deaton said, surprisingly kindly. “What you’ve done so far is incredible. Perhaps one way to consider it though is that you need to open up the pack bonds. Truly consider yourself part of the pack. You can protect Derek and Jack because they’re directly yours, and that’s why you have control. Feel that the rest of the pack is _yours_ , and that you really belong, and you’ll have control and be able to protect them and yourself on your own terms.”

Stiles knew Derek had heard Deaton’s words and avoided his gaze. He didn’t think Deaton was completely crazy in his assumption. Stiles had been a shell for years, of course he didn’t truly belong, and Deaton had caught him out.  
“May I?” Derek held his arms out, his face beset by concern.  
Stiles just fell into them, not crying, but sucking shuddering breaths of panic. What if Kate Argent came back for him? What if she took Jack? Or hurt any one of these people he owed everything to? And he couldn’t save them. What if he didn’t have value, just like they’d told him so many times at the Facility? No value as anything other than a thing to be used and then discarded.

Stiles felt the warm pull along the bond he had with Derek, and then he realized Derek had been pulling at everyone, when they all appeared, in singles and pairs and groups, in minutes.  
“He needs us,” is all Derek said, and, as if they could translate that in some way Stiles _did not_ yet understand, Peter went to the television and started lining up all Stiles’ favorite kid-friendly programs, and Cora and Allison pulled cushions from the couches while Danny went to gather more blankets than Stiles had ever seen in his life, and Derek helped the girls build something that looked more than a little like a blanket fort, like Stiles’ dad used to when he was little, except this one was more the size of an _actual_ fort, and Laura came in with the pups carrying popcorn and candy, and then Stiles was in the middle of all that, with Derek at his back and Jack at his front, and tentative fingertips on his hair and arm and calves from the rest if _his_ pack. 

* * * * * 

When he woke up, the morning light was just cresting, and he looked down at himself, surrounded by his pack. There was something, some buzz under his skin; some strength that he hadn’t been able to feel before. Derek’s arms were still around his waist, his hands pulling Jack close against his front, but Cora had somehow nuzzled up and was resting her head on his hip, her arms wrapped tightly around a thigh, and Scott had one hand on his ankle and his other arm firmly holding Allison close. His dad was gently snoring with his cheek resting on the top of his head, and he could feel Peter’s hand warm on the back of his neck. When he tilted his neck he could see Peter’s other hand curled around Chris’ chest, and Stiles smiled, until he saw Peter looking right back at him with a smirk.

“Laura is making breakfast,” Peter whispered just as Stiles heard a clatter and a subdued curse from the direction of the kitchen. “Maybe we should help.”

Stiles managed to extricate himself, watching as Derek’s arms curled around Jack and the little pup pushed his nose into his papa’s neck.  
“You feel better?” Peter asked.  
“Well, it was nice. I’ve never done a pack huddle with more than my mom and dad when I was tiny.”  
“Well, get used to it. The Hales _love_ pack bonding, and you’re one of us now. And Jack will grow up knowing the care of a good pack.”  
“Thanks,” Stiles whispered, ignoring his own watering eyes.

Peter tensed, his head flicking to the front of the house, and Stiles heard it a moment later. A car.   
“It’s six thirty, who…?”  
“Go to Laura.”  
“No,” Stiles turned back to the living room, and found Derek sitting up.  
“Baby? Your heartbeat…”  
“Someone’s coming.”

Derek listened.  
“Only one car,” he said, as the other members of the pack stirred.

Stiles tried to focus on his new-found powers. He had to protect his pack. But something was wrong; he could feel the shield forming, but it wouldn’t close.  
“I can’t-,”  
Peter was at the window.  
“It’s okay. It’s Ethan Whittemore.”

Stiles rushed to his side, in time to see Ethan pull up and climb out, before going to the rear door.  
“What?”  
He saw Ethan helping a small girl, with long, glossy chocolate brown hair and huge eyes, down from her car seat, before he went to the other side. The girl was bouncing excitedly, and Ethan told her to be patient, as he helped a young boy down. The boy looked like the twin of the girl – same eyes, same hair, though with a severe pout, and Stiles’ breath caught. 

Talia opened the front door.  
“Ethan,” she called, “welcome.”  
“Uh, hi. I’m sorry for just turning up. I had to-,” he paused, as the girl tugged his jeans.  
“Who’s that Dadda?”  
“Come on, Delaney, manners.”  
“Sorry, Dadda,” but she didn’t look that sorry, watching Talia with inquisitive eyes. The boy just clinged onto Ethan’s hand, looking at his sneaker-clad feet.  
“Why don’t you come in? Laura has put coffee on, and maybe the children would like waffles?”  
“Ooh, yes please, ma’am,” Delaney could apparently find her manners for waffles, but then, who couldn’t?

Talia brought them into the warm and busy kitchen, Ethan holding the boy close to him while Delaney rushed ahead.  
“Sit at the table, young lady,” Talia instructed, and she jumped up onto a chair.  
Stiles was standing to the side, focusing on keeping his scent down, not wanting to scare the pups, slightly shivering. Derek appeared at his back, sliding big hands around his waist, grounding him with his scent.

Jack suddenly came running in, shrieking happily as Mal chased him, catching him and rolling across the floor.  
“Malachi!” Talia reprimanded, but she couldn’t keep the small smile from creeping across her face.  
The two boys stood, brushing themselves off, Jack still in his pajamas.   
“Hello,” Delaney said, “I’m Delaney, who are you?”  
“I’m Jack, I’m new.”  
“You don’t look new. You look as old as me, and I’m a whole four.”  
“Do you want to come play with me and my uncle?” Jack asked politely.  
“I’m having waffles. Do you like waffles?”  
“I like pancakes.”  
“I like pancakes too. But waffles are good.”  
“Well, milady, here are your waffles,” Laura said, sliding two plates onto the table and passing cutlery to Delaney and the boy, who was curled on Ethan’s lap.  
“Thank you,” Delaney said brightly.  
“’ank oo,” the boy said from around a thumb.  
“What’s your name, Darling?” Laura asked him as Danny brought over bowls of fruit and syrup.  
He didn’t respond, just looked up with concerned eyes.  
“His name’s Beckett,” Delaney answered for him. “My dad says he got all the quiet and I got all the loud.”

“Are you taking us away?” Beckett finally removed his thumb.  
Stiles was grateful little noses weren’t finely honed to changes of scent, as his dipped and every adult turned to look.  
“Beck, baby-,” Ethan started, but Beckett turned his serious gaze on him.  
“I heard you and Dad. I heard you both shouting. Are you getting a differorce? And sending me and Delaney away?”  
“No, no baby, we’d never send you away. Dad was just a little annoyed with Dadda.”  
“Is that why we left him home?”  
“Yeah, baby.”

Stiles couldn’t hold back. He pulled out of Derek’s grasp and went to crouch by Beckett.  
“Hey Beckett. I promise you, no one is going to take you away from your dad and dadda.”  
“Stiles-,” Derek warned.  
“No, Derek. No one will, Beckett, do you understand?”  
“I think so. Can I have waffles now?”

Ethan had relaxed exponentially and, after the pups had eaten their fill, he was happy for them to go and play while he stayed at the kitchen table with a coffee.  
“Why did you come, Ethan?” Peter asked.  
“I couldn’t not come. The thought of losing those two, just the thought, it broke me.”  
Peter looked confused, but Ethan powered through, turning to Stiles.  
“As soon as I realized you were their real father, the moment I knew, it’s like I felt the pain you must have felt at losing them. I can’t make someone else go through that pain. I can’t be the reason for it.”  
“You aren’t the reason for it, I promise. And I feel the same way. I’m not going to take them away from you.”  
“Stiles, you have the right-,”  
“Peter, stop. I know you’ve got your lawyer hat on, and I know you’re thinking of the pack, but I won’t do it. _I_ know exactly how much it hurts, how much it eats away at you, how much it takes a piece of you. I won’t do it to someone else when it would be a pain I can and should prevent.”

There was a commotion at the front and suddenly Jackson appeared, his eyes red-rimmed and his voice raw.  
“Please don’t,” he begged, “please don’t take my babies. Ethan please don’t give up on our family.”  
“I never did, Jacks. But you know coming here was the right thing.”  
Ethan stood, pulling his mate close, letting him sob into his scent gland as Ethan whispered in his ear and the sobs turned into happy, disbelieving hiccups, as Derek held Stiles close.

“Well,” Peter said, “what now?”  
“I may have a solution of sorts,” Talia said. “Stiles deserves to know his pups and to have a relationship with them. But he won’t rip them away from the only family they’ve ever known, and who love them as their own. We need to rebuild the main house anyway.”

Ethan gave a confused look.  
“Long story, I’m sure we’ll share when it’s all over,” Laura injected.  
“We have a lot of land. It might be about time to start expanding the pack.”  
“Are you-? What are you-?”  
“I think my dear sister and our pack Alpha may be inviting you to join the Hale Pack. I suspect we’re going to have a few new members, it would seem like good timing,” Peter said with a smirk.  
Talia shrugged, “We’ll be building a house for Stiles and Derek, and I suspect Peter might want his own space soon, too-,”  
“What?”  
She ignored her brother, “If you were in agreement, perhaps we could build you something close to Stiles. The bond is important. It will make your pups stronger.”

“Sweetheart?” Ethan put his hands on the side of Jackson’s face, looking into his bloodshot eyes.  
“You have been wanting to escape my parents,” Jackson snuffled out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who knew I'd be writing an ethical conundrum.  
> I know it probably looks like they came to a decision on that _very_ easily, but I'm not claiming such a transition would be easy to deal with. Of course Stiles was going to quickly come to the 'thinking of other people instead of himself' conclusion, that's him. I'm sure they'll have their ups and downs - there would be a lot of jealousy and hurt feelings before anyone would reach a happy equilibrium, but they have some *other* issues to deal with before they get to that point. That is a futureHalePack problem.


	9. Got A Curse We Cannot Lift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _During the car ride, Deaton had suggested Stiles use the time to practice his shield. He’d been getting a lot better, and he was certain the almost daily pack piles had a lot to do with that, and now he could create and control shields for everyone in the pack, including Chris and Allison and Scott – who weren’t technically Pack, but Stiles suspected that was a matter of time more than anything. To his pleasure and amusement, he’d been able to create the shield for both Ethan and Jackson the very first time he’d tried._
> 
> _His good mood lasted until they drove into the small town that housed the Facility._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more suggestion of Omegas being kept against their will and the bad things that happen there - just a fleeting hint, in case that's a bother for you

“Why’d you change your mind?”  
Stiles was sitting on the porch, gazing unseeing into the darkness of the woods that surrounded the house, and jumped when he heard Jackson’s voice, not even focused enough to have heard him coming.  
“I had to,” he responded with a shrug, refusing to turn his face and let Jackson see the pain he knew was there.  
“You could have fought for them. The law would be on your side if what Peter said about the forgeries is true.”  
Stiles felt a bubble rising; anger and fear and deep, bone-wrenching agony, but he sucked it down, his voice wobbly.  
“They knew me for an hour, maybe two. And then they were gone. You’ve been their parents for four years. You have been everything they’ve known. Don’t you think I didn’t ask Danny to find _anything_ that would have justified me taking them? Bringing them back to me. You guys are apple pie fucking perfect. If they were old enough for ball games you two would go to every one. As it is, you’ve done nothing but care for them and love them and be there for them. I wasn’t.”  
“But-,”  
“Why are you pushing this, Jackson?”

Jackson sucked in air, blowing it out with force as he let his head hang.  
“What if you change your mind?”  
“What?”  
“If we take Talia up on the offer, we’ll be in the same pack as you. You’ll have the blood bond, and you’ll have the pack bond too. And you have Jack. What if…” his voice became almost nonexistent, “what if they choose you?”  
“Hang on, I found something. You’re too dumb to be anyone’s parent.”  
“Hey!”  
“Jackson, you know as well as I do it’s about so much more than the ties of the bonds. Nothing will change you being their parents,” he rubbed his gritty eyes, “and I am not going to get in between you and your pups.”  
“You make it sound so simple.”  
“Well I’m sorry about that. Because it isn’t simple. Nothing about this is. But it’s something we can get through. It’s something we have to get through.”

“Actually, they do have ball games.”  
“Huh?”  
“Well, Delaney does. She’s captain of her tee-ball team. And Beckett would spend his entire time as a wolf if we’d let him. He loves to run. Maybe, uh, maybe you could go to one of her games. And you could run with us next full moon?”  
Stiles weakly managed a genuine smile. “Yeah. Thanks Jackson, yeah, I’d like that.”

* * * * * 

“When were you going to tell us you have a psychotic Omega hunter attacking the Preserve?”  
“We’re telling you now.”  
Jackson rolled his shoulders, throwing his hands up.  
“Ethan, help me get-,”  
“Don’t act hastily, Jackson,” Talia soothed. “It may be better for you to stay here.”  
“What? But you think they might come back?”  
“There is a small chance they will return for revenge,” Talia ignored Peter’s derisive snort. “However, now that they know Stiles is here, we would be concerned that they will look at their own records and try to use your family as leverage to get him back. We can’t protect you as well if you leave.”  
“What?” Jackson paled. “They’re trying to get you back?” He turned to Stiles.  
“Uh, yeah. I think they need me to do some experiments.”  
“No. That isn’t happening. What do we need to do to stop this? How many are we going up against? We take the fight to them, yeah?”  
“What-?”  
“Don’t fight it,” Ethan whispered. “Let him do this.”

Peter looked appraisingly around the room.  
“Yes. We take the fight to them. I like it.”  
“We take them in their tower? It’s risky, Peter,” Talia cautions.  
“Incredibly risky. We need something more than simple Alpha power, don’t you think?”  
“Goddess, I know that look. Go on, tell us your thoughts.”  
“We need Danny for this.”

“You want me to create false identities? I’m good, Peter, but that’s a step too far. It’s about physical documentation…”  
“Not false identities as such. False histories. Ah, come in Lydia.”  
An attractive redhead came into the living room, a supercilious gaze was cast around the room, until she smiled warmly at Peter.  
“My assistant, ladies and gentlemen, and my mate.”  
There was a cacophony of Hales demanding answers, but Stiles just looked at Chris, who was leaning against the wall with a smirk to rival Peter’s.

“You always have been a drama queen, Peter.”  
“That’s no way to speak to your mate.”  
She snorted. “I think Jordan might have something to say about that.”  
“Jordan Parrish?” Noah asked.  
“Yes, Sheriff. _He’s_ my mate. And Peter, you really don’t think things through do you? They’d be able to smell instantly that we aren’t mated.”  
Peter waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe I had ideas to solve that.”  
“Aren’t you a riot?” she asked with impeccable sarcasm. “I don’t think I’m your type, and anyway, when you told me what you needed, I spoke to Jordan, and he’s more than willing to go with me.”

“So what do you need from me?” Danny asked, and Lydia flushed.  
“Not a lot, I’m afraid. Um, Jordan and I used a clinic for two years to try and increase our chances, but they weren’t successful. And the state adoption agency rejected our application because of Jordan’s job. They said it was too dangerous. So, we can put the truth on the application.”

Stiles didn’t know Lydia, but he felt her pain even as she tried to subdue it through what was probably years of practice. Peter, on the other hand, was pacing, the calculation going through his mind clear on his face.  
“It’s dangerous, you know? There’s a chance that they’ll be suspicious when you ask for a tour. Even more so when they see you’re from Beacon Hills,” Talia suggested.  
“We aren’t afraid. Sheriff Stilinski knows Jordan has very little fear.”  
“Yes, I wish he had more, sometimes. Too brave for his own good.”  
“We’ll do whatever it takes. They can’t be allowed to continue.”

* * * * * 

They didn’t want Stiles to go. It took a week for the Facility to contact Lydia to arrange her and Jordan’s interview, and even though they’d expected it to take longer, it seemed every member of his pack had a go at convincing him to stay behind during that time. He wavered when Talia guilt tripped him about staying with Jack, but his defense came from an unexpected quarter.  
“Are you suggesting that Stiles won’t be able to cope because he’s an Omega?” Allison growled.  
“Of course not. But they’re after him-,”  
“Yes, and do you really think this house will be safer when most of the Alphas are two hundred miles away at the Facility? Should I not go? Should I wait here like a damsel in distress and let them be pleased they got a two-for-one Omega deal?”  
“No, but you can defend yourself, you’re trained.”  
“Yes, and Stiles has powers too. Let him use them. The Goddess didn’t give him a spark to waste it sitting on the sidelines.”  
Talia slammed her mouth shut, chastened but also, Stiles suspected, thinking better of arguing that the powers were probably intended to be more defense than attack. 

In the end, Talia and Michael agreed to take Cora, Malachi, Jack, Delaney, and Beckett to Scott’s mom’s house and watch over them there, with Ethan, while Danny was taking his and Laura’s three to visit his parents. Making the two-hundred-mile journey with Lydia and Jordan would be Peter, Chris, Allison, Scott, Jackson, Noah, Deaton – for medical back up – Laura, Derek, and Stiles. Eight Alphas, two Betas, and two Omegas. Stiles could only hope it would be enough.

The departure was more emotional than Stiles had expected, as he regretted every decision that had led him to leaving both Jack, and who they’d universally decided to dub ‘the twins’, behind. He’d been bonding with Delaney and Beckett over the week, though they’d agreed not to reveal the relationship yet, but he felt the pull for them nearly as strong as the one he’d built with Jack. Cora was _furious_ she wasn’t allowed to go, and Stiles felt for her, but they were already risking enough.

During the car ride, Deaton had suggested Stiles use the time to practice his shield. He’d been getting a lot better, and he was certain the almost daily pack piles had a lot to do with that, and now he could create and control shields for everyone in the pack, including Chris and Allison and Scott – who weren’t technically Pack, but Stiles suspected that was a matter of time more than anything. To his pleasure and amusement, he’d been able to create the shield for both Ethan and Jackson the very first time he’d tried (the twins went without saying). 

His good mood lasted until they drove into the small town that housed the Facility.

* * * * *

“Are you ready?” Lydia whispered. Even though she couldn’t see anyone in the parking lot of the Facility, which she’d dubbed it in her mind, even if the official moniker was Pine Ridge Omega Rescue Center, they couldn’t risk discovery now, more than ever.

They’d spent the almost four-hour drive discussing how they were going to approach their task, so they were as ready as they were ever going to be. Lydia left the car, brushing down her smart suit skirt and straightening her jacket. The only thing they’d needed Danny for was to change her employment record temporarily, so, instead of Peter, she officially worked for his legal rival, who was actually a good friend of his and had agreed to the subterfuge in case anyone from the Facility had called to ask about her ‘assistant’. Lydia was grateful for the forethought, because they had, but it made her more confident that their cover story would pass muster. 

She looked around the parking lot, which was surrounded by thick trees. She could see the glint of several long, low building off to the left, but it was the two story almost cabin-like construction that was their destination today.

“Good afternoon, you must be Lydia and Jordan Parrish,” the attractive middle-aged woman had close-cropped red hair and held her hand out to shake. Lydia focused on smoothing out her scent as Jordan’s was high enough for both of them.  
“Calm down, Darling,” she said. “Sorry, I’m sure you can understand this has been quite an emotional journey for us to get here.”  
“Of course, the prospect of a new pup after so long without is exciting and terrifying all at once. I’m Victoria Argent, I’ll be conducting your interview and showing you around today.”

Jordan had managed to calm himself and was producing a far more excited scent by the time they got to Victoria’s office. Lydia was pleased, as that was easier to explain given the circumstances, even if she knew it was because he loved to take action.

“I understand you tried artificial fertilization?” She obviously believed in start big.  
“Yes, we tried several rounds, but unfortunately they didn’t take.”  
“Did you consider implanting an Omega egg instead of using yours?”  
“Oh, uh, I’ll be honest, no. It wasn’t something the clinic suggested. But then, Omegas are so rare, I’m sure finding one would be difficult. And Jordan doesn’t operate on the need for his pup to come from him.”  
“So you aren’t looking for Mr. Parrish to be the father?”  
“Um, no?” Lydia considered herself unflappable, but Victoria Argent’s cool way of essentially admitting what they were doing at the Facility unnerved her. Had they worked out her and Jordan weren’t what they claimed, or did she speak this way to all the prospective parents who came through those doors?  
“You are aware that the adoption process is costly?”  
“Yes, I have an inheritance.” It was true, and they knew their incomes from being a deputy and an executive assistant weren’t enough to suggest they could afford this. They also knew the Facility would have investigated their finances.  
“Yes, we know,” Victoria Argent stated with a cool smile.

The woman was a little creepy, and Lydia was at a loss as to how they’d never been caught out if she led their interviews. Her thoughts were tumbled even more as she led them out for the ‘tour’.  
“We’ve recently come, er, under new management. This is a new role for me,” she admitted. “We’re also stepping up our availability of pups for adoption, so I apologize if things are a little messy while we expand.”  
“Oh?” Lydia thought it would be reasonable to question that. “How would you go about having more pups? Surely you can only work with people who come to you?”  
She could see the cogs of panic whirring, and scent it. The woman knew she’d said something she shouldn’t, but she schooled her features and raised her chin.  
“Well, we’re increasing our capacity to take more Omegas.”  
That wasn’t a lie. Unless Victoria Argent was an Oscar-worthy actress and the whole thing had been an act, there was no way she was smart or controlled enough to hide it. Lydia didn’t say anything in response. She didn’t think she could trust her own reaction.

* * * * * 

Derek was pacing. They’d checked into a roadside motel a few miles away from the Facility, and he was itching to get out there, to run in the woods that he knew led straight to the back of the extensive property that had been owned by Gerard Argent, and was presumably owned by Kate Argent now. But, despite the fact that they’d discussed the plan ad nauseum while they’d been waiting for the invitation to Lydia and Parrish, Peter was insisting on going over it again now, in the room he and Jackson were sharing. Despite the fact Derek wished they weren’t all in separate, partnered, rooms, suspecting they’d need the security of a pack pile after this was over, he saw Danny’s sense when he’d been accessing the motel’s reservation system to insert their bookings – they had no idea how many people they were coming back with. 

“Here, Allison,” Peter pointed at the map. “You’re going to take position here. I’ve checked, and there’s plenty of heavy tree cover, so get as high as you can.” Unusually for a ‘wolf, Allison had no problems with climbing or heights, and had been training solidly for the last week from the highest trees in the Preserve. 

She nodded and accepted the case Deaton passed her.  
“This purple liquid is a reduced strain. Coat your arrow heads, and anyone who gets it in their bloodstream will be out. It takes an hour or two to be burned out of the system. You can handle this without gloves as long as you have no open wounds. The yellow powder is more dangerous. It will kill quickly if it gets in the blood. I would suggest you put gloves on if you feel that anything escalates enough for you to need it.”  
“We won’t need that though?” Chris growled. “We’re meant to be staying below the radar for this part. In and out.”  
“Indeed. But at the current time, we have no idea what remit their employees have been given. Based on our knowledge, it is highly unlikely there is a single employee who doesn’t know exactly what is going on at the Facility, and if they identify us, all evidence points to the fact that they will respond exactly as ruthlessly as they attempted to at the house.”

Chris clenched his jaw. Derek knew he was extremely unhappy about his daughter being part of this, but she had crossed her arms and clenched her own jaw in an extremely familial way when he’d suggested she stay with Cora and the pups, and he’d had to concede that she was more than trained enough to cope. The first run, anyway, was meant to be pure recon. They needed to know what they were up against. 

Anyway, it was Stiles Derek was more concerned about. As soon as his shield skills had improved enough that he could wrap himself securely every time, Peter had suggested that he would be their point man. Derek’s heart had almost broken at how eager he’d been to help, and furious that Peter had undermined everyone else’s attempts to keep Stiles away from the danger.  
“He deserves his moment of retribution,” is all Peter had said, ignoring Derek’s impotent growl.

Now, Peter turned to Stiles.  
“Show them.”  
Stiles giggled, a grin on his face that threatened to split it.  
“Okay.” He hopped up, moving away to stand by the window.  
Derek watched as his face lost all levity, and he focused in the way Derek was becoming used to seeing when he was training with his shield. He could see it now, passing in front of Stiles almost like a mirage, but he blinked, and then Stiles was gone, no longer behind the still-shimmering air.  
“What?”  
It was another moment, and then the flicker of the shield faded, and he was back.

“That’s incredible!” Jackson jumped off the bed, rushing to hug Stiles, who was panting slightly with shining eyes.  
“I can’t hold it for more than a minute or two. But it’s like I can make the shield thicker. It’s why you don’t have to worry, even if they appear suddenly, they won’t even see me,” he turned to Derek. Well, he wasn’t going to do stop worrying, but it did make him feel safer about his mate, and, okay, maybe a little turned on about his impressive skills, too.

When they arrived at the perimeter of the Facility, Derek could feel his blood buzzing in anticipation. Allison clambered up a tree with her bow and the case of poison strapped to her back, taking up position where she could see most of the buildings laid out before her. She spoke into the radio the sheriff had secured, her voice clear in the ear-pieces and echoing with a minute lag compared to where they could hear her from above them.  
“I have visual on two one story white buildings, approx. forty and twenty feet long north to south at one and two o’clock. At four o’clock is a wooden building that has the appearance of a residential property. Two stories, no signs of activity. Nine o’clock is a single-story wooden building that bears the appearance of a barracks. A single motorcycle at the northern door and a man wearing black combats exciting and walking toward the two-story wooden building at twelve o’clock. Hey! I can see Lydia and Jordan! They’ve parked in the parking lot, which is gravel, and contains six cars including theirs. Someone in a white lab coat is exiting at one o’clock, carrying something that looks like a tray of test tubes end entering the building at two. Back at twelve o’clock, a woman with short red hair has exited the building and is greeting Lydia.”

Derek felt Chris tense beside him.  
“Victoria?”  
“It’s probable. She used to dye her hair red. Said it suited her personality. And she always kept it short. She wasn’t a woman for fripperies.”

“Allison, notify us if you see anyone else arriving or exiting any of the buildings,” Peter said. “We’re going in.”

* * * * * 

“This is the birthing suite.”  
Lydia looked through the large window into the gleaming white room. It looked high tech, strange in the otherwise old-fashioned building. Elsewhere had been functional corded carpet and wooden furniture that had seen better days. Here, was shiny and clean, with flashing lights and machinery.  
“What happens if more than one person needs to give birth?”  
“We time it, er, well, that hasn’t happened. But we are expanding. We’re going to be building a specialist medical building.”

Lydia took a swig of water.  
“When we looked up the center, it looked like you accepted people giving up their babies after they were born, too. We were hoping there might be an orphanage of some kind.”  
“Choose one already cooked? Ha!”  
Lydia winced, but kept the smile on.  
“Well, yes, we’ve been waiting for a long time, and we know centers such as yours usually have very long waiting lists for newborns.”  
“Well, we do, but fortunately for you, Omegas usually spit out a litter. They’re really very closely aligned with wild animals that way.”  
“And you split them up?”  
“They don’t know any better. And that’s for the best. You want them to integrate into your pack. They do that better without blood distractions. One of our, um, guests, is due to birth within the next week and the doctor thinks there might be five in there. Though of course it will depend on their designations. Sometimes the runts don’t survive.”  
“Oh.”  
“Anyway, this is the nursery where the newborn pups are placed until they can be picked up.”

Lydia wasn’t listening, her gaze pulled to a darkened corridor as she took another drink. Unlike the battered homeliness of the public areas and the brutal efficiency of the medical zones, she could see thick carpet, and luxuriously papered walls, with gold sconces on the wall. All very Russian-Tsar and over the top. That’s where she needed to be.

“Do you have a lot of staff?”  
“Well, with the, um, change in management, unfortunately we lost some of our staff at the same time. We do still have a full medical team though, so your unborn pup is safe.”  
“So, not many employees?” Lydia pushed, and the woman scowled.  
“Well, no. We have thirteen, but we’ll be recruiting more. It takes time. Not everyone can cope with the…rigors of this kind of business.”  
“No, I’d imagine not.”

Lydia knew about the attack on Talia’s pack house, so she knew the numbers matched what the others were expecting, and breathed a sigh of relief. But that corridor was still drawing her. She grasped Jordan’s hand.  
“Sweetheart, could you go to the office with Ms Argent and discuss the financial aspects? I just need to visit the restroom.” She turned to look expectantly at their host, who pointed to a door next to the foyer.

When they’d headed back to the office, Lydia checked around. The place was eerily quiet. It had the feeling of somewhere that should have a lot more people bustling about, the reception desk empty, though with a picture of a cat next to the dark computer, so probably just someone’s day off, the waiting area large but with dust motes dancing in the afternoon sun through tall windows. There were other doors that looked like offices, but in reality could have been for any number of purposes, all in the direction of Ms Argent’s office. 

Lydia balked when she saw a man in black tac gear walking past the window. It was alien in the setting but not unexpected, and she could only hope that the others, who she knew were out there somewhere retconning, were aware and being careful. Her perusal took seconds, and Jordan had only just shut the office door when she ran to the restroom. She really had needed to go – spending a lot of time with Peter had taught her many creative ways to circumvent ‘wolf lie detectors, and limiting information, as well as omission, were solid starters. 

As soon as she exited the unexpectedly fancy bathroom, she turned left – back to that ominous corridor. It was lined with doors, all shut, and she listened hard outside the first one. No noise, but she turned the handle to find it locked. Damn it. She tried them all, feeling an inexplicable _need_ to see. 

Finally, one was unlocked, and she twisted the handle, revealing a dim room, the only light offered the low lighting from the sconces on the wall outside. She had good eyes, enough to see the shape of an empty bed, the sheets half pulled off, drawers against the wall, a partially opened door to the far side that she’d bet was a washroom. Her eyes weren’t strong enough to make out exactly what those things hanging on the wall were, or what the darkened stains on the half-denuded bed were, and for that she was thankful, though the stench couldn’t be hidden. Musk and cum and fear. And blood. 

She closed the door quietly, leaning her head against the wall to take calming breaths, to prevent the panic threatening to take hold. She could hear someone moving at the far end of the corridor, shuffling papers by the sound, hear the calm heartbeat of someone doing just fine. 

She almost leapt out of her skin when another door opened, and a man with silver-gray hair and cold blue eyes stepped out, straightening his tie. His heartbeat was thumping, strong and calm, and Lydia heard another, behind him, fluttering and afraid, seeming echoey and multiplied, which was cut off sharply when he shut the door. Soundproof, the rooms were soundproof. She felt as though there was a cold hand at her heart. She had to get out. She managed to school her face into her very best ‘business efficient’, muttering ‘Sir’ as quietly as she could and turning back the way she’d come. She heard the paper-shuffler, a high, feminine voice, just as she broke back into the main foyer, asking ‘Mr. Burr, everything satisfactory? Would you like to make another appointment with Isaac? You’ll need to hurry.’ 

She burst through the office door, Victoria Argent and Jordan looking up with shock.  
“Oh, Darling, I’m so sorry. I’m feeling rather unwell.” Though she’d had no chance to consider the lie (and was it really a lie? She felt sick) she knew her clammy face and erratic heartbeat were covered by her statement. She managed to take a breath, turning to the woman.  
“I’m so sorry. We ate at a diner on the way, I’m afraid it’s disagreed with me. Perhaps we can return tomorrow?”  
“Of course.” She looked bemused, but, to Lydia’s relief, not suspicious. “Just call before you arrive.”

Standing next to their car, with Victoria Argent watching through the windows of the house, Jordan pulled Lydia close.  
“Are you really okay?”  
“Yes, Darling. It was that soup, I think.” She said it loud enough that Victoria would be able to hear, if she was listening, and, as he knew full well she hadn’t eaten soup, Jordan would understand it wasn’t something they could talk about here.  
“Let’s get you back to the hotel.”

* * * * * 

Stiles was moving almost soundlessly, even without his shield in place. He’d peered through a high window in one building, and seen a white-coated technician doing something with vials of blood and some kind of centrifuge. A man in black had walked briskly to the other building, and Stiles had crept up, but the windows in that one were even higher – too high to see through without something to stand on. And he could hear nothing through the walls in either of them. They were heavy construction – brick rather than the wood of the other buildings – but there was a deadening in the sound that made him think they were intentionally soundproofed as well. If he focused really carefully he could hear Derek and Peter flanking him, the others too far out to catch, so he knew his senses were doing just fine. 

He made his way back to the house – he might have more luck with the wooden walls and full windows, though he was careful to keep out of sight of them. When he was closer, he pulled his shield up, just enough to prevent anyone hearing him.

From behind a broad bush, he could see Kate Argent through the window her arms moving like she was washing dishes. Or field stripping a weapon. He knew which one he’d guess.   
“There’s movement from the main building,” Allison whispered into their comms. “Someone on a stretcher, being pushed by one of those guards. And that red-head is coming out of the front door and heading to the house.”  
Stiles ducked back further, watching as Victoria Argent approached the back of the house, entering through the back door, leaving it open.  
“How did it go?”  
“They had to leave. The woman was unwell. But they’re coming back tomorrow. I think they’ll be positives for one of the new pups.”  
“He’d better have Alphas. We need the money from those sales.”  
“We could use more Omegas too. The test subjects aren’t producing anything. Even the prime variable. He’s getting weaker. I don’t think he has much longer.”  
“He _has_ to. Everything my father had showed the sparks are passed down through the Omega line. You’re right we need Omega pups too. None of the adults have anything worthwhile. They’ve been out of use for too long. “  
“Except _him_.”  
“He was using it, I know he was. It’s exactly as my father thought. So his pup _must_ have it… We should start breeding Liam.”  
“He’s only fifteen, your father always waited for them to be more stable-,”  
“We have no choice. We need more pups. For sale and for the tests. We need money and Alphas. And then…then we go get the Stilinski boy. We won’t need his useless pup when we have the source.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew, making sure all those hints come together - this was a tough one to get out, though I enjoyed it thoroughly. There's only one more chapter, and possibly an epilogue - so if there's anything you're aching to know about I'd love to hear it so I can make sure it's covered.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts in the comments 😁


	10. Let Me Lay Waste To Thee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“This is private property!” the taller one yelled, either unable or unwilling to note his two bosses trapped before him._
> 
> _Derek was about to do something – yell back, or attack, he didn’t know as his blood felt sluggish, molasses in his body while his mate was separated from him – when the speaker dropped, writhing, with an arrow shaft in his thigh. The other whipped around, waving his weapon toward the trees, but then he was down too. By the time Derek reached them, they were both out, convulsing lazily in apparent sleep as he fastened ‘bane reinforced zip ties around wrists and ankles. They’d burn a little, but they’d heal once the police had them._
> 
> _“Two down,” Peter smugly announced._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. I'm not at all used to including this much action, so I hope it makes sense.

Derek and Peter had moved in closer when Stiles had crouched behind the bush. They weren’t close enough to hear the words from inside the house, though they saw Victoria Argent arrive, and could make out Kate Argent moving inside. Derek felt a physical sense of revulsion at the sight of them, just bustling about without a care in the damn world, after what they’d put his mate through. He wanted to storm the house, rip their throats out, but Peter signaled him to calm down, clearly able to see everything on his face.

“Lydia and Jordan are here,” Allison whispered through the comms. “Lydia says there’s thirteen staff, and there’s definitely Omegas here, being used as sex slaves, and she says she thinks at least two might be quite badly injured, and there’s at least one heavily pregnant.”  
Derek couldn’t speak back because of the risk there might be a guard in the woods close enough to hear, but he tapped the radio instead to let her know it had come through. It was good data, though he really wanted to know how many of those thirteen were Alphas. Allison had seen two black clad guards, and she’d suggested they both moved like Betas, though without the scent they couldn’t be sure. But if they’d used up all their Alphas, other than the two Argent women, on the attack on the Hale house, he’d feel a lot more comfortable.

He didn’t have time to think of anything else, as Stiles stood, too noisily, seeming to stumble into the bush. Derek went to run forward, but there was a powerful repulsion through the pack bond, almost pushing him back in its dominance, leaving him breathless as he watched Stiles step forward.  
“Argent,” Stiles screamed, loud enough that Derek was certain they were about to be overrun with every member of staff, but he didn’t care, as he watched his mate falter, dropping to his knees on the lawn as Kate and Victoria Argent appeared in the doorway – the looks on their faces amusing in any other context.

Derek finally seemed to regain control of his body, racing forward as he saw the women do the same, but they were closer and he saw them reach out for Stiles, and then they vanished.

Derek ran into the forcefield, knocked back as Peter arrived on the other side, Chris, Scott, Noah, Jackson, and Laura smashing through the woods close behind.  
“What the hell?” Jackson yelled.  
The three shimmered back into view, and he could see Stiles’ fury, though couldn’t hear anything. He couldn’t quite…the two women weren’t moving. They looked frozen, but they broke free and he saw Kate Argent’s clawed hand rise, ready to slice through Stiles, but then it was stopped, clutched to her body with a look of agony on her face.  
“He has a shield around himself, inside the main one,” Peter stated the obvious. “We need to split up. That scream will bring the guards here.” He spoke into the radio, no longer bothered about being heard. “Allison, get ready to start taking people out. I want everyone who isn’t us sleeping the minute they come into view.”  
“Copy that,” crackled into their ear-pieces. “Lydia and Jordan are coming your way.”  
Peter nodded to himself, but then he turned to Noah.  
“You and Scott head back to Allison. She’s capable, but we don’t want _anyone_ from this nightmare fuel getting their hands on her. Just…well, you know what to do.”  
“I don’t want-,” Noah began, but Peter put his hand on the man’s arm.  
“I know you don’t want to leave him, but he’s got this.”

Noah took a look at the power in the lines of Stiles’ body and reluctantly nodded, heading away with Scott at his ankles.

Derek looked to Peter, concerned about Stiles’ dad being excluded from this.  
“Derek, _you’re_ enough of a mess. I don’t need two of you.”  
He didn’t like that Peter had seen straight through the calm façade he was trying to project, but he had to accept the judgement, turning back to the shield, trying to find his way through, as two black clad men – possibly the ones Allison had seen, but he wouldn’t know, even if they _were_ Betas – approached, their weapons drawn.

“This is private property!” the taller one yelled, either unable or unwilling to note his two bosses trapped before him.

Derek was about to do something – yell back, or attack, he didn’t know as his blood felt sluggish, molasses in his body while his mate was separated from him – when the speaker dropped, writhing, with an arrow shaft in his thigh. The other whipped around, waving his weapon toward the trees, but then he was down too. By the time Derek reached them, they were both out, convulsing lazily in apparent sleep as he fastened ‘bane reinforced zip ties around wrists and ankles. They’d burn a little, but they’d heal once the police had them.

“Two down,” Peter smugly announced.  
Derek found it odd that more guards weren’t coming, but Peter just set Lydia and Parrish to watching the perimeter while the rest turned back to Stiles. He hadn’t done anything to the two women, but they were both sweating, and then Stiles waved a hand, and they could hear him again, though when Derek stepped forward, the shield was still in place.

“Stiles, the shield.”  
“No, Der. You can’t get in, they aren’t getting out. But you need to hear.”  
“I’ll get you for this, Stilinski. Take your blood and rip your skin from your flesh until you can’t heal but can’t die, and I’ll keep taking and taking until you have nothing left.” Kate Argent’s hissed threat was enough to get everyone producing acrid scents of anger and fear, their faces dropping in horror.

Not Stiles, though, who just laughed.  
“No you won’t Kate. Look at you, still acting as though you have any power at all. You’ll be going to prison for a long time.”  
“I’ll kill you, Omega bitch. Kill you and use your little Omega pup. Just think, you ran away, selfish, just thinking about yourself, and left your little Omega to us. We’ve made all sorts of use of him, you know? He has the cleanest blood, so good for all the experiments. Doesn’t have your shitty healing, either.”

Stiles seemed to waver, but then he straightened, glaring right at Kate.  
“You won’t touch him any more.”  
“You think? You don’t even know where he is.”  
“No, but you _will_ tell me,” there was no uncertainty in his voice, and Derek watched as the sneer Kate Argent wore was steadily replaced by a look of panic, and he saw her arms seemingly pinned to her side by nothing.  
“What are you doing, what’s that-,”  
“I’m not even sure,” Stiles responded with a laugh that definitely didn’t belong in the highly charged air. “Can you feel pin-pricks? Knives inside you? Electricity? It’s all new to me, all I’m getting is a vibe. I’d be interested to know though, for the sake of science. I know how much you like science, Kate.”

Victoria Argent wasn’t even trying to move, just staring in horror as her sister-in-law’s face became red in discomfort, as blood began to drip from her ear and the corner of her mouth.  
“He’s in the lab,” she suddenly yelled, apparently reaching her breaking point when a snotty blooded bubble popped forth from Kate’s nostril. “ _Under_ the lab. There’s a secret doorway in a bookcase.”

Derek watched Peter rolling his eyes, knew he was thinking the same thing about the ridiculous super-villain nature that had apparently been Gerard Argent, with henchmen and secret basements and evil labs, but there was no more time.  
“Der, please. Save him.” Stiles turned to him with anguish across his face, and Derek realized what a thin veneer of control Stiles was clinging to.

“Chris,” he demanded, feeling a buzz of feral fury running through him, but deciding it wasn’t fair to leave the man here to witness whatever happened to his sister and ex-wife, still not sure Stiles wouldn’t just keep going. He didn’t like it, purely for the sake of the impact on his mate – but the emotional clean up was going to be huge anyway. _He_ sincerely wanted them dead, was reminded of his own blue eyes at the thought, but there was no guilt in this case. He was just angry enough to wish Stiles would drop the shield so he could do it himself.

Peter apparently had different ideas, as he turned to the remaining four Alphas.  
“When he lets the shield go, make sure they’re subdued. Use the ties, and Allison,” he spoke into the radio, “spike them with the sleeping potion. Remember, we still don’t know if there are more guards. Be ready to respond.”

They ran to the smaller of the two buildings first, encountering a small blond Beta with a white labcoat in the doorway. She growled, reaching for a radio in her pocket, but Peter’s claws were at her throat, his red eyes flashing, and she was instantly subdued, offering a whimper of submission and dropping her hands by her side.  
“How many in here?” Peter demanded.  
“There’s three more scientists,” she squeaked, “And a guard.”

Derek and Chris left Peter binding the woman’s wrists and rushed forward, encountering the guard, black-clad just like the rest, straight away, as she’d clearly heard the distress from the Beta scientist. Her gun was drawn, but Chris had disarmed her before Derek could blink, moving in controlled precision until she was face down, hogtied with wolfsbane infused ties pulling her ankles and wrists together.  
“That was…tamer than I was expecting,” Derek admitted, as they moved forward.  
“I don’t want anyone killed unless they give us no other choice. This has to be recorded, officially, if we want the people involved to pay for what they’ve been part of. Dead bodies are going to make it a little harder to explain.” 

They found two more white-coat clad Betas in the large lab, messing with vials of fluid in various colors, though the most prominent one being blood-red, and they restrained them with ease. They were missing someone, but Peter pulled at the various shelves until one swung soundlessly forward. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, Derek wasn’t surprised to see their final scientist cowering against the far wall, and Peter dealt with them.

The sight that met their eyes was equal parts heartbreaking and traumatizing. The basement was bright and white and clinical, except for the bars that denoted two cells against the wall. One cell contained three pups, ages seeming to range from a toddler to around six or seven, the older one soothing the terrified whimpers of the other two. They were all Omegas, their bitter, petrified scents blasting into the space.

The other cell contained a full-sized bed, and a young Omega almost lost in it – as pale as the crisp sheets. The child was tiny – looking maybe two years old, but Derek _knew_ this was Stiles’ Omega, the one he’d thought had been lost to him, killed, all those years before when he’d run. Derek didn’t know if it was scent – it seemed unlikely as the fear pulsing from the pup drowned out the similarity that his natural scent would have to Stiles – or some more primal understanding that _this_ pup was inexorably connected to his mate, but the precise reasoning didn’t matter as he allowed Peter to smash the lock with his Alpha strength before creeping in as submissively as he was able, determined not to scare the child. His fear peaked when Derek reached to unbuckled the bonds at his wrists and ankles, but settled instantly when Derek scooped him up, the pup naturally settling with his nose against Derek’s scent gland, and an uncertain whimper turning into a purr before they’d even left the building, after locking the employees in the small cell.

“We have to get these back to the hotel. Deaton needs to see to them,” Peter instructed.  
“What about the other building? There may be more guards,” Chris asked.  
“We’ll get to them.” And Peter’s voice had an ominous quality that was more intense than he’d been before they’d rescued these pups.

When they got back to the house, Victoria and Kate Argent were out, courtesy of Allison’s arrows, and bound just like the guards, laid out in a row on the short grass. Lydia ran forward, taking one of the pups from Chris, and Jordan took another from Peter, reaching out a hand to the older one. The children seemed dazed, much calmer already, but clearly very uncertain about what was happening.

“Where’s Stiles?” Derek asked.  
“He dropped back to see his father. He was weak after the shield dropped. Jackson went with him,” Laura explained.  
“Our car is parked at the edge of the road,” Lydia said. “We’ll take the pups and Stiles back. Let Deaton check them over. Meet you there.”  
“We still have some clean up to do,” Peter said. He spoke into the radio, “Allison I’d appreciate you staying where you are and subduing anyone you see on the ground. Scott can stay with you. Please send Jackson and Noah back to us.”

Derek was thankful to his uncle, but all he wanted to do was be with his mate now, to be sure he was okay after the energy he had to have expended subduing the Argents, and to be with their new pup, who was weak and pale in his arms. He followed Lydia and Jordan, stepping carefully through the uneven woods with the pups they’d saved in their arms.

He saw the relief on Stiles’ face before he scented it, but was almost knocked back with the force of happiness that hit him when Stiles got close. He looked exhausted, face ghost-white and blackened bags under his eyes, but his smile was huge. When he saw the pup in Derek’s arms, he faltered for a moment, before rushing forward, nuzzling gently into the pup’s nape where he was still buried in Derek’s neck.  
“You found him, Der. Goddess, I can’t believe you found him.”  
“He’s still weak, baby. We need to get him to Deaton.”

Lydia’s car was overfull, with Derek and Stiles in the back, Stiles’ pup still on Derek’s lap, the older Omega pup sat beside Stiles, holding his hand – soothed by the Omega scent. Lydia drove, and Jordan kept the other two pups wrapped in his long arms as she carefully navigated the bends that would take them to safety.

* * * * * 

Peter looked between their remaining Alphas.   
“Laura, Jackson, I need you to stay here, make sure these ones stay down, and any others that Allison takes down are added to the pile.”  
“I can help-,” Jackson tried.  
“I know you can. But we’re near the end now. The worst has been done. I won’t risk you now. Your mate and pups need you safe. We have four more to contend with-,”  
“Three,” Allison interrupted. “A woman in a business suit just came out of the back of the main building heading your way. I took her down before she got close enough to scent you.”  
“Even better. Three. Even if they happen to all be Alphas, and I don’t think they are – I really think they used all their Alphas on the attack at the house – we can take them. Go collect the woman and bind her with this lot. We’ll deal with the rest.”  
Jackson reluctantly nodded, but Peter didn’t have time to deal with any further soothing of his ego, and he gestured to Noah and Chris so they could head back to the final building.

When they approached, it was quiet, and they were careful sneaking to the door.  
“I can’t hear anything, maybe they aren’t in there,” Noah suggested.  
“No, it’s sound proof. The lab was too. This is where they keep the Omegas, I’m sure. If this is the place they kept Stiles, then there’s bedrooms, and a basement. So we need to be vigilant until we’ve identified the remaining workers.”

They approached the door, knowing they’d be given away the moment it was opened. Chris drew his weapon and Noah followed suit. Peter was happier with his claws, and shucked them, ready for the onslaught. Nothing happened at first, as they entered into an open area, with seating. A lounge, perhaps, for the prisoners, but empty. 

Once inside, Peter was overwhelmed with scents of distress, and he could see a line of doors on the left side of the building, all shut, and an open doorway right at the end. He couldn’t see much, even less when yet another black-clad guard appeared, red flashing eyes and an automatic weapon the most apparent characteristics.  
“Who gave you permission to be here?” he demanded of the three, shifting to block even more sight, as Peter’s nostrils received a blast of hot blood scent, and his ears heard an aborted scream of pain.  
“Kate sent us,” Peter announced, ignoring the confusion coming from the other two. He just needed to get closer to this Alpha before he tried to take him down. “That one needs more help.”  
“Thank Goddess,” a man in a white coat appeared behind the Alpha. “Get in here. I’m going to lose her.”

The three of them rushed forward, Noah and Chris holstering their weapons, content to follow Peter’s lead for the time being.

The sight that greeted them was enough to bring bile to Peter’s throat. The young woman in a medical chair seemed to be bleeding from _everywhere_ , contrasting sharply with the otherwise bright white of the room. The doctor and a nurse were trying, apparently unsuccessfully, to stem the bleeding.  
“What do you need?”  
“Bring me one of the others. Number four is healthy. She’s hemorrhaging and she’s going to bleed out if I don’t get Omega blood into her. In fact, bring number six too. I can’t take too much from one.”

Peter took the keys from the Alpha guard, who was looking greenly-sick, and went back to the corridor, opening the doors for room four and room six.  
“I’m sorry, one of you is in trouble, she’s bleeding and she needs a transfusion. Will you help?”  
The blond boy in room four didn’t look older than fifteen, but he jumped up straight away.  
“Is it Hayden?”  
Peter couldn’t answer, but the boy came rushing out anyway. The girl in the other room was pressed fearfully against the wall, but the boy ran in and grabbed her hand.  
“Come on, we have to look out for each other.”  
It seemed to bring her back to herself, and they both ran into the medical room, stopping with shock at the sight of the guard, unconscious and bound, one of Chris’ wolfsbane coated knives protruding from his leg.

“It’s the weakened strain,” Chris promised at Peter’s look.  
The doctor and nurse seemed entirely unaffected, quickly seating the two young Omegas and hooking them up to the necessary equipment.

It was a fraught fifteen minutes, but finally the free flowing hemorrhage had ceased and the nurse was cleaning everything up and giving the donors sweet tea. The doctor turned to them.  
“So, are you the police?”  
“You’re expecting the police?”  
“I’ve been hoping ever since they brought me here. It didn’t take me long to work out this wasn’t really an Omega center. There’s very particular injuries. But when I confronted them, they threatened my daughter, and Braeden here.”   
He gestured to the nurse, and Peter realized, now the smell of blood was clearing, she was an Omega.  
“I just decided it would be better if I just did my best to keep everyone healthy. I haven’t lost a single Omega since I started, six months ago. But it kills you inside, you know? One of them had pups, three months ago, and they just came in one night and took them away, three little Alpha pups who _needed_ their mother, but they didn’t care. And then things like this happen,” he pointed to the sleeping Omega on the chair. “Some knife happy bastard. She might not survive, even now. She’s old enough that she _really_ needs her mate in order to heal properly. I can only hope the blood from these guys is enough. The Argents don’t care. I’m not allowed to wander about, but there’s something rotten to the west, within the trees. I don’t think they’ve ever cared when they haven’t been able to save someone. They have a pregnant one again, and I know they’ll take the pups. Never mind them taking him out for people who apparently ‘like’ that kind of thing. I’m certain they only brought me in, and threatened me to make me stay, because of money. I think they’re making money off them.”

“How many Omegas are here?”  
“There’s twelve. Are you rescuing them?” the man seemed to have a thought that left him pale. “You _are_ rescuing them, aren’t you?”  
“Yes,” Noah told him. “They’re safe now.”

Peter left the still over-powering scents of the room and went back to the seating area to call the local police. This was going to be a huge mess. Twelve Omegas who’d been horribly abused for Goddess knew how long. Some so bad that what had happened in that room hadn’t really seemed to faze the Beta doctor. He was determined that none of them would be abandoned to a system that didn’t really care about them. 

“We need to let the others out,” Chris suggested, coming into the space and placing his hand on Peter’s shoulder.  
“I just don’t know if I can face what we’re about to find. That girl, who I brought out, was terrified until the boy convinced her. They’re going to be traumatized.”  
“So, Talia needs to hire a specialist therapist for the town.”  
“You make it sound easy.”  
“Not easy. But something we can do. It’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? Give them somewhere safe to be.”

They opened doors until every door from one to eleven was swinging free. Some Omegas timidly came out and milled around the seating area, tearfully greeting each other, hugging and huddling together on the chairs, while others stayed in their rooms, not yet trusting they were free.  
“Last one,” Chris said, hand on Peter’s shoulder.

Peter clicked the door unlocked and, almost unconsciously, took Chris’ hand as he pushed it open. The Omega was scrabbling back on the bed, scared, but that wasn’t the first thing he noticed, or even the second or third thing. The boy was hugely pregnant, belly swollen as if it were ready to burst, but that was still number three. It was the forceful blast of mate that hit him first, with a flash of the boy’s silver eyes. And the second thing was Chris’ red eyes, and his own whisper of ‘mate’, and then the two of them looked, shocked, at each other, the new realization washing over them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it.  
> An epilogue to follow, which I have a few ideas for, but none of it's set in stone, so I'd love to hear if you feel there's anything that needs to be clarified.  
> Plus, as always, would love to hear your thoughts in the comments.


	11. If Ever There Were A Lucky Kind, It's You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It was a perfect afternoon to walk lazily along the riverbank. Sunny and warm, but with a refreshing breeze, and when Stiles found a brightly lit patch of grass and laid the blanket down, Derek couldn’t help but think someone was looking kindly down on them, especially when he pulled out summer fruits and juice, and tiny adorable sandwiches. After he’d eaten about twelve of them, Derek lay back, one arm under his head, the other stroking through Stiles’ hair as his head rested on Derek’s chest._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short but, I hope, sweet

“Mom, how many people have you got working on this?” Derek asked, looking in wonder at the bustling activity taking place at their partially burned home.  
“Oh, I don’t know, Darling. Now isn’t the time to scrimp, though. We have to rebuild the main house, with improved defenses, too. The place will be a stronghold in future. And the plans are coming together for the Grove.”  
“The what?”  
“The Grove. It’s what we’re going to call the pack houses. All we have to do is extend the driveway past the house,” she pointed to the left, “and there’ll be an enclave, I suppose you might call it. Homes for you and Stiles, and Jackson and Ethan, and, well, two or three more.”  
“Or four or five?”  
“Well, perhaps. We’re still waiting to hear from Lydia whether they’d be willing to join the pack, now they’re adopting that sweet toddler you all saved. Such a tragedy about his mother, though.”  
Derek frowned, agreeing.

It had been easy to find the homes of seven of the twelve fully grown Omegas they’d rescued that day; all ones who had been stolen away from their packs, who were welcomed back with open arms. The tiniest Omega pup had been born to a mother who had died in childbirth, and the Argent’s records showed two live Alphas were born to her as well. He knew Peter and Danny were working at tracing them, if for no other reason than to make sure any Alphas that were culpable in the abuse of the Omegas were brought to justice.

The case had broken wide open in the media – and Derek suspected that might have been down to Peter, and perhaps Lydia. People had been rightfully disgusted and horrified but, interestingly, rather than the story fading away into obscurity as similar stories always had before, it gained momentum, and there were demonstrations, and organized calls for the Government to _do_ something about the epidemic of abused Omegas. It may have been partially down to the mass graves close to the Facility, showing they’d been snatching and murdering Omegas for a very long time.

Kate and Victoria Argent, along with all of their employees, had been arrested and were currently facing trial, with Peter at the helm of ensuring they faced the full force of justice with cast-iron evidence. Though he’d spoken up for two of the employees – a Beta doctor and an Omega nurse – and no charges had been laid at their feet. Peter hadn’t spoken specifically about what had happened that day, but Derek trusted his uncle, and knew the two must have proved themselves in some way. 

The other five adult Omegas, including a girl called Hayden who was still in hospital in Beacon Hills, they brought home with them. None of the five seemingly had anywhere to go – a couple even said they’d been sold by their packs, and the others given up voluntarily. His mom had faced that challenge head on, and announced they’d be moving into the main house just as soon as the rebuild was finished. In the meantime, everyone was living in very close quarters in Laura’s home.

The older pup, Maxine, who was nine, it transpired, apparently knew her father had been sold about a year prior, so Danny was putting a lot of effort into tracing him, in the hope that he could be saved before it was too late. They’d found some convoluted records that suggested the middle pup, who was almost five, might be in the same situation, but it was taking time to collate the Argents’ extensive but complicated records into something that could be understood, even with the whole pack helping as much as they could. Derek didn’t mind. Little Arlo was largely unaffected by his ordeal, maybe because he was so young, and the sounds of his own two pups, even if little Ben wasn’t quite up to keeping up with the others yet, and Jackson’s and Ethan’s when they visited every day, until their home was built, playing rambunctiously with Arlo in the gardens behind Laura’s home, was music to his ears. 

“Here to lug some wood, Derek?” Peter strode over in his designer suit, looking tired.  
“Not today.” He actually hadn’t even thought about helping that way. He’d suggest getting more involved to his mom. Right now, he was visiting to see how things were going and to get some fresh air and peace, the sound of electric saws notwithstanding. Things _were_ tightly packed at Laura’s.   
“Good, I have a couple files I’d like you to search through for me. Lydia is putting a lot of extra hours in, but she’s starting to complain about all the billable hours we’re losing having to do this pro bono. I did have all my associates and legal secretaries on it at one time, but she has a point. I won’t be much use to anyone if my firm goes under.”  
“You won’t be much use to anyone if you pass out with exhaustion, either. How much sleep are you getting?”  
“Huh, not enough. But it won’t be forever.”

Derek paused, unsure whether to bring the slightly awkward matter of Peter’s mate up. And Chris’ too, apparently.   
“Spending a lot of time with Isaac?”  
“From a very great distance, unfortunately. He won’t let either of us near him.”  
“I mean, that can be understood.”  
Peter’s eyes got suspiciously pink.  
“Yes. I can’t exactly have judgment that he’s afraid of Alphas. It must be his worst nightmare to suddenly discover he has two as mates. Not that I’d actually know, because he refuses to speak to either of us. Any closer than the doorway of his room and he growls.”  
Derek chuckled at the thought of the sweet-faced Omega getting that way, but he stilled at Peter’s look.  
“And he gets distressed. Too distressed for us to risk pushing it.”

“Has he agreed to see Deaton yet? He must be due any day.”  
“Only because Stiles managed to get through to him. I don’t know how it will go though. He’s not happy about Betas, either. It’s only the Omegas he’ll accept in the room. But you’re right, he needs a doctor.”

“Did you speak to Deaton about you and Chris?”  
“Reluctantly,” Peter growled. “He spouted a bunch of incomprehensible platitudes that amounted to the fact he doesn’t seem to really know how we can share a mate and not be mates with each other.”  
“Maybe it’s a time thing. If you can get Isaac to accept you both, then the bond between the two of you will grow, or something.”  
“Maybe, though I don’t know when you became such an optimist.”  
Derek knew. It was having Stiles. Though he didn’t bother rubbing that in the face of his uncle. Not under the circumstances. 

He took the files from Peter and headed back to Laura’s, stopped by the sight of Stiles on the front lawn, laying back on Marla’s fluffy body, apparently dozing, a huge basket hamper by his side. Stiles snuffled in his sleep when Derek sat by him, slowly opening his eyes.  
“There you are,” he grinned lazily.  
“Just been looking at the work on the house.”  
“Impressive, isn’t it?”  
“Well, not yet…”  
“But your mom showed me the plans. She said they’ve been wasting all this open space for too long. It’s going to be amazing when it’s done.”  
“Yes,” Derek agreed, leaning down to steal a kiss from his mate. “It will be amazing when we have our own space, and are close to Delaney and Beckett too instead of just once a day visits.”  
“I know, not much space for us to be alone.”  
“No?” Derek looked suspiciously at Stiles, whose grin was ever-widening.  
“So, my dad and your dad _insisted_ on watching the pups, and I know Laura and Danny headed off for a run in that direction.” He pointed north. “So, I thought we could explore over there.”  
“A nice walk?”  
“And a nice sit down, and a nice picnic, and then maybe some nice lie down too.”  
“I’m in.”

It was a perfect afternoon to walk lazily along the riverbank. Sunny and warm, but with a refreshing breeze, and when Stiles found a brightly lit patch of grass and laid the blanket down, Derek couldn’t help but think someone was looking kindly down on them, especially when he pulled out summer fruits and juice, and tiny adorable sandwiches. After he’d eaten about twelve of them, Derek lay back, one arm under his head, the other stroking through Stiles’ hair as his head rested on Derek’s chest.   
“We made it,” Stiles whispered.  
“I always knew we would. We had you on our team.”  
Stiles stretched up to kiss Derek, turning a lazy exploration into something more urgent.

Afterward, they lay close, Derek’s arms wrapping Stiles, and Derek let a tear fall.  
“Der?”  
“Just too happy. Didn’t deserve anything this good. Happened anyway. I love you, Stiles.”  
“I love you, too.” Stiles snuffled into Derek’s scent gland and they let the peace soothe them to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They made it, and you can see that and imagine how they'll work through things as a pack.
> 
> Or, if you're so inclined, you could subscribe to the series and get a notification when the next instalment comes out, which will largely follow Peter and be somewhat more x-rated (and probably a bit more angsty, too, once I've come up with a plot)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed - would love to hear from you in the comments.


End file.
